It is

Its that drip of sweat that's stuck on his neck
slowly making its way down to the bed
My head lays calmly relaxed
But my mind is in a wind and a fuss
Am I doing enough?
Should I touch?
that first bit of pressure against the skin is bitter
the five second thoughts of regret
But the next seconds you decide to bare
the pressure pushes through
its not him and you
Its no longer two
Its one
You're whole
That pressure in your mind turns to passion
The passion is pleasure and bliss
It is incomprehensible
baffling
enigmatic
indescribable
mystifying
peculiar
Its Sex.

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