pitching a fit, not a tent

I don’t want to un-do
The affection coming from you
But, I’ve lost my grip
Possibilities…like the whores they are
Have decided to grind and strip
And the beads of sweat
Dripping down my spine
Are lubricating the way
And I can smell the dirty temptation
Pitching a fit in my thong
Waiting for you to bite into it
Fuck!…why can’t you just stay?
Will things go our way…in the end?
Or will my insecurities unravel…
The blanket we’re sharing?
And leave us both freezing?