Pang

This hunger
doesn’t sate.

I drink in
her sweet skin,
my private treasure,
face down
and naked
in our bed,

perfect in hue
and contour,
spilling like silk,
smooth
and cool
and luxurious.

She looks
over her shoulder
in my direction
giving that
unforced
beaming smile,
a lustful mix
of consent
and encouragement.

My eyes glide
downward
to her feminine curves,
as I
fit myself in
perfectly snug,
mounted skin to skin,
rocking and swaying
to the rhythm
of the cosmos.

I grab
sumptuous handfuls
of her thick
honeyhair,
and pull myself down
on her,
front to back,
sticky warm
skin to skin.

I proceed,
faster and deeper,

part of me
fearing I may have
a heart attack

and part of me
hoping I do,

as this is
the best moment
of my life.

Afterward,
a momentary
heavy silent bliss
hangs over us,

until I feel
another hunger
pang.