He stands behind you,
You can feel his heat,
His presence…

Walking into your life,
As though,
He owns it,
He is it.

He creeps up,
From behind you,
Pressing against you,
Kissing your neck…

Whispers in your ear,
You feel his breath…
It’s hot,
Yet smooth.

He grabs your throat,
With force,
Yet gentle enough to let you breathe…

The rest is history…

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