the agony of pleasure

literarycollective:

And with your head tilted back, the flesh of your skinny neck clings to the ridges in your esophogas, and I think of all the unromantic ways to tell you I want to cling to you like that, in the dark, my flesh in between the railroad ties of your spine, my fingers spread across all the puckers in your skin, my battered lungs playing trampoline against the tumbling of my heart.