'Percussion, Salt and Honey'

Satin sheets bind tangled feet,
yet, no reluctant prisoner – this.
She craves it – begs for it.
Vows to savour it – relish it...
every last drop; if not –
the moment passes
over and finished –
way too soon.

Tries, with everything
she’s got, to delay –
stave it off, and yet,
at the same time,
needing it even more;
the trick being, keeping
that equilibrium on even keel.

Time stops – nothing
else exists; only that goal...
that zenith, knowing full well
something’s got to give,
but no matter how much
she psyches herself up,
inevitably she’ll reach
that clichéd ‘point of no return’.

Instinctively
she rushes to greet it....
that illusive ‘something’
which will consume her, head
to toe. Pulses quicken...thighs quiver.
Cymbals crash! Tambourines reverberate...
skin on skin...Forgetting

only seconds ago,
you were convinced,
this time round,
you’d cracked it;
you could keep her there
for ever...teetering
on that brink...bitter
but oh, so sweet –
the release.