Across the wilderness growing hot, I’m quickening with memories rushing to come to me in heated hardness.
I run from them until I must rest. You surf in on a Pacific memory, find me and fill my mind with your sweet and sour past. I diet on the sweet parts—my weakness, always.
Sweet is sugar on my tongue, melting to a soft wetness that pours from me and interrupts my moans of passion. In your clumsy eagerness to drink my nectar, you kick sand in my face. Where is your tent where we first fucked?
Bring it—cover us if you’re going to seduce me all over again! Wrap me in your blankets and break into my quivering hard and deep. Rush your fury to find the latch to that sweet release.
Go deeper, harder, faster, louder than the memory making love to me. Give me more than the decade-old retention of lust scents in the air. Be more than a stalker across the wilderness.
Be real, if you can.
If so, can you be real enough for a lifetime together? If not, leave me alone with my other memories. I can last a lifetime exploring my pleasure zone fantasies and sugar honey memories across the wilderness.