KNEE HIGH

KNEE HIGH

KNEE HIGH

Every few days she comes for me without fail
and slides inside
          perfectly fitting -

her creases my creases
her toes my end.

She takes me without a second thought
white knuckled
and frantically pushing,
          pulling,
                    pushing           in
till I begin to respond.

I stretch my tongue up
                                        over the long flesh space above.
Corseted laces wind through my grip
          crossing
          binding together for warmth
                    for strength
                    for the journey.

My skin bends in tune with her movements
and as muscles contract
          we heat up –
          ready to move
faster.

She’s late
          but I’m well prepared
cause this knee high affair just makes me stronger.
Perfection grows longer with the sweat on my sole
          supple next to hers.

No stopping for rest, just to                               stretch
from end                     to                     end
to the tips of my embrace.

On we race
          and I’m holding
                                        on
                   and I’m holding
                                        in:
keeping myself between her and any that would dare to touch.

In return she will smooth me down
          work her fingers into
every crevice:
minute attentions
to           the          details                     of           my                     skin.

Now inside
          slower moving
          tension          slackening

I am
          untied
undone

and left
          in the corner –