You touch me with your cold hands that have touched too many.

Finally making me feel seen and desirable.

As I gaze intently into your eyes, I notice you are not searching to see my soul.

You are simply seeing the face and lips that lie before you.

I hold hunger to be in your world, you only hold hunger to be in my body.

Although when you hold me tight, everything seems to be alright.

A slight smile creeps onto my mouth when your arms wrap around me. The sly satisfaction of being chosen.

However, I have not been chosen as your lover. Just a body to lust over until you connect with another.

When I shamefully walk down the stairs of your house, I wonder what flawless female will be titled your spouse.