low pressure systems

tangled in sheets in the low light, my breath grows heavy as the sky. I blame the weather for that steady descent. The air pressure to close to my skin, the morning nipping bare flesh with invisible teeth. Biting my bottom lip i writhe through these early hours. Housebound with lust and shaking fist at the barometric yearnings oscilatting from scalp to sex and back again. On days like this i cannot be trusted. Falling like rain onto every inch of open space.