Your fingers begin where words are lost,
tracing slow fire along my skin,
like a whisper, like a promise,
like a prayer only my body understands.
The night hums between us, heavy, electric,
breath tangled with breath,
heat curling at the edges of restraint,
a war we no longer wish to fight.
You taste me like sin, like surrender,
lips parting against mine,
pulling me deeper into the gravity of you,
where the world ceases,
where nothing else matters.
Your hands speak in languages older than time,
lifting, pressing, claiming,
drawing sighs from the depths of me
that only you have ever known.
And then—
bodies collide, slow and aching,
hips meeting in a rhythm carved into the universe,
moans swallowed by open mouths,
by shuddering breath, by the urgency of need.
You bury yourself where I am soft,
where I am fire, where I am yours.
And I let you in, deeper, deeper,
until I no longer know where I end and you begin.
And when we fall—together, undone—
it is not an ending, but a beginning,
a creation, a devotion, a worship,
where love is made, and souls are bound.
