Head.

Look at me. never close your eyes. soft pupils with a language all their own. eyebrow motion, squints, a conversation made of muscle fluctuations more profound than noise more like telepathy. soft lips closed tight, wet, drowning in you. the coarse gaps of gasps for air. undeterred, determined if not for love then control. hands grip the back of my upper thigh hard like griping a bridle with sharp slaps close to the finish. a chorus of evangelical praise breaks through my teeth. a greedy sermon hungry for donations. squeezing every last breath from me. I succumb. my legs too stiff to fall. I’m not a sadist who thinks love is a fist. I regain my composure, kneel and kiss you with no reservations.