Each perfect pinching point of pain penetrates a prism of ecstasy. Tendon tensioner as muscles feign protest that I can not gather.
Sound crackles on Skin taught lessons by constant increase in urgency of desire. I give in but release will not come. I fight and futility mocks as it flings me in a chasm of expectation. Unfulfilled. Unanswered or acknowledged I crumble.
Attempting to draw arms close, attempting to seek some comfort in warmth that is deep set in marrow of man I realise that I am still drawn sharp edges, no soft solice. No comfort.
