The Tension

It's tragic, eyes met with static

Baring down on weakend knees 

Propped that ass on centerpiece 

Unleashed my confessions. 

Lips crushed by your wetness. 

Drinking serenades 

To the blinking from your face,

I pause. 

Bent fingers trace your walls.

Built with skin and a moving pulse 

A memory remained of course,

Where urges could not abort.

It was fun, while it lasted.

But I, chase magic.

A simple night made of moans.  

I wasn't enough of course,

So you had another.

I signed off and wandered.

And the kiss you gave me then 

Was the one I threw in the bin.

It wasn't needed. 

You said, "It was all that I would get."

I didn't need a parting gift.. 

This is not the time for regrets 

Then why am I in your kitchen 

Still hearing this? Move on...