on the next level

they say winds raise high

when he would unbutton

my shirt and puts his

hand on my waist but 

hairs of my forearm 

stand erected like never

as he lifts my hand up, 

kisses the tips of 

my tiny fingers, 

skims his nose softly

at the centre of my palm,

rests his lips on my 

dendritic blueish veins

carrying the blood who's

tracing routes just to 

get close to my heart, 

then he looks at my

unlatched lips to blow out

these small fresh breaths

this intimacy has blowed in. 

they say recalling things

i made in bed with him

would contract my skins 

like they try to be in flight 

whenever his touch comes

to my mind but 

my tongue comes out 

with a wink thinking

how he outlines the 

curves of my thighs 

by his fingerends, 

and writes his name 

on my inner thigh 

with scarlet red pen 

even before Taylor could

feel and write 'Guilty As Sin' , 

and how i turn on 

shower next day to 

watch falling waterdrops

so fresh over his name , 

forming red foam but

not erasing his name

as if i belong to him. 

they say his

top lip kisses are 

enough to wipe my gloss 

and mess his neck 

making shiny pink patches

but a smirk comes on 

my face with widened eyes

when i remember 

how the first time 

he snuggled with his lips

in the spaces of my toes, 

caressing my arches swiftly

and taking me to 

the heaven i never imagined, 

then pulling me towards him

rolling over the bed sheets 

in the dirtiest way possible, 

uncovering each other 

under the blanket as if

we're here to teach ablazed

chemistry to the walls of room. 

we realize there're no limits,

we're meant for next levels. 

- chetna 🌻