Measuring Depths

And she jumped on him like the fog in the night, there lay his hands on her, slowly buttering her flesh with all his might, swiftly rising above the zest of her breath, it was the soft and cushioned grasp that could have beaten death.

Chipping in slowly and beautifully entangling in between, flowing with the involution, it was a never-ending scene, hysterical yet so magical, led me to blinding lights, I could never imagine myself reaching to the unfathomed heights.

Slowly and softly squeezing the gaps into fire filled with thrusts, crawling, twisting and turning, it was a symphony of two busts, blowing away time on every hit note, she could hear herself reaching the hill, for it was time to blow the horn and stop the momentous drill.

Ploughing the movement till the end, and binding the bodies in a trance, it was the last gasp of the air we filled ourselves with that last glance, shot between the seconds and the infinite threads that flew within us, reaching the heavenly shores dried up, we had parked our bus.