my fingerprint on you.

pressed deep within.

the ridges are mine. ridges and valleys and that whorl right in the middle.

that is mine. that is me.

and that is in you.

as if i had commited a crime. caught and sentenced. fingers dipped into ink and pressed, rolled side to side, within you.

guilty or not it doesnt matter.

it's wrong of me to want to fingerprint your skin.

but i know you feel it.

my fingers. tracing sleepy patterns over you. late at night. while we talk.

in your hair. scratching.

feeling, searching.

fingerprinting.

i want to see how my thumb runs over the skin near your hip.

what you look like from that angle.

i want to rush into you. lifting you up. bringing you into me.

i want you to want my breath between your shoulder blades.

but i cant have that.

and i do have something better.

ive touched you within.