Yearning for release will bypass
apprehension.

A revelation in our intermingling;
when thrust and flutter
peel back our intricacies and rip
at the scabs of bitter romance
until taste slips sour
with the coupling of each kiss.

A beard brushing
amongst such soft skin
would bring about welcomed abrasion
until our cup runs over and,
amid that embraced conception,
the lingering question
of

“what comes next?”

remains.