Exactingness,
that’s what it is...
when you
suffuse my
sensibilities with
your lusty
language without
any immediate
intent on giving
that which you
describe so
vividly.

Exactingness,
that’s what it is...
when you
serenade my
sensuality with
your mental licks
and kisses
without any
sense of urgency -
zero intent
of following
through in the
right now.

Exactingness,
really
that’s what it is...
when you
stroke all my
sister-girl parts
in one long
salacious sentence
without any
rush to place
your hand on
what is now
saturated.

Exactingness,
that’s what you enjoy...
when you sandwich
my thirst for
a tying down,
a marking, and
a fucking
between
your lusty
language, mental
licks and kisses,
and long
salacious sentences
topped by
your delayed
schedule to
fuck me.

And right now I want to know...

Exactly when are we gonna fuck?