Scripted Instinct

A bedroom, wherever.

It doesn’t matter, you’re not there.

Two bodies, imperfectly different from each other,

Wholly unique,

Seamlessly come together

To form one person,

One being.

Panting, breaths short

Full with meaning.

An act so rogue,

Filled with so much love that you fail to recognize this act,

This wild act of passion,

Is purely instinct.

Inexperienced,

Yet every move, every word, every noise:

Effortless, as if part of a script.

A well-crafted, beautiful script.