It seems to me we can never give up longing and wishing while we are thoroughly alive. There are certain things we feel to be beautiful and good, and we must hunger after them.
George Eliot

I want to get lost in you for a while … clear my head, catch a breath.   I want your hand around my neck; soft, tender … constrained. I want the pressure of your thumb in the hollow of my throat … less constrained.   I want you to keep me off-balance.   I want you to pursue and woo.   I want to feel your strength.   I want your hand wrapped around my wrist.   I want to be too nervous to speak.   I want you to hunger for me.   I want you to choose.   I want you to exploit my need.   I want you to know that I am this way for you … only you.   I want you to take.   I want you to make me unsure.   I want you to overwhelm me.   I want to give more than I believe I can.    I want you to insist.    I want to worship you.   I want you to push me right to the edge … and over.   I want to be your baby.    I want you to be my anchor and my wings.   I want you to know how free I feel under you.   I want to let go.   I want to soar.   I want my words to disappear into your mouth, against your shoulder.   I want to cling.   I want to show you how fragile I am.   I want you to hold me … close, tight, hard.