Close enough to my lips.

Close enough to my lips. Your eyes stay where I want them, on my mouth. You imagine the shape of my lips, the softness, the taste you will never have until I give it. You imagine my lips parting slowly, opening just enough to keep you wanting. I lean close, slow enough to make you restless, my breath brushing against you, close enough to make you believe you could take me if I allowed it. I wet my lips with my tongue, making you burn for what I deny. You don’t move, because I haven’t given you that right. You don’t touch, because I keep you frozen in place. And you will stay there, hungry for my kiss, until I decide you have earned more.