Sex on the run
A secret meeting that scratches the itch
Sex on the run
She is his bitch, he’s her desire,
A flame that flickers, fueled by fire.
They hide away from prying eyes,
Where whispered secrets never die.
He’s in her veins, a pulse, a need,
She’s in his arms, the silent creed.
No vows exchanged, no love declared,
Just stolen moments, hearts ensnared.
Their touch is sharp, their breath is tight,
In shadows deep, they own the night.
A dance of lust, a silent shove,
A secret twisted kind of love.
Her fingers trace his hidden scars,
His hands map out her secret stars.
No names, no words, no dawn to see,
Just endless nights where they are free.
She bites his lip, he pulls her close,
A tangled mess nobody knows.
In darkened rooms their bodies speak,
A language raw, not for the weak.
She’s his bitch, he’s her lover true,
In secret fires, they break through.
No chains, no rules, no need to speak,
Just wild nights and skin on cheek.
And when the deed is over and done
they go back to their partners
no feelings,
it’s just sex on the run.
About the Creator
Marie381Uk
I've been writing poetry since the age of fourteen. With pen in hand, I wander through realms unseen. The pen holds power; ink reveals hidden thoughts. A poet may speak truth or weave a tale. You decide. Let pen and ink capture your mind❤️
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Comments (3)
You're on fire today, Marie. Another one for 'the too good to be true pile.' 💗💗
Fabulous writing Marie! 🌸
This description of a secret, passionate affair is intense. It makes me think of how some relationships can be all about the moment, with no strings attached. But it also seems a bit chaotic.