Soft lines draw me, slow, unchained,
Your hips that call, my hands restrained.
The hollow throat, the ******* that rise,
Full moons that darken eager skies.

Your skin, a canvas, flushed and bare,
I trace its heat through breathless air.
I long to taste, to press, to part,
To lose myself where bodies start.

Your lips, wet fire, parted, near,
Invite my hunger, raw, sincere.
I drown in you, no space, no name,
Two shadows burning into flame.