Wanting

Words unspoken, plenty of conversations about anything else
bodies guarded, much effort to resist the maddening pull
Doubts mushroom, as ever so deepening the knowing of what it is
that delays the partings, blooms into sharing stories,
paints the canvas stroke by stroke, fixes the sadness in our gaze
 That cord that stretches between us is the executioner's noose,
cutting off air supply, the un forgiven trespasses is the caving ground,
the wet blanket that smothers the flames, but not the fire
Only when we speak of un forbidden pleasures, we no longer need
the language of control, of discipline and punishment