hands find you longing in the dark,
at your most raw and vulnerable,
you whisper to go slow this time.
To awaken you softly now
with warm fluttering kisses,
lips puckered over a tender nipple,
trembling from the heartbeat
traveling along a low whimper.
The brief sound was that mystic dialect
between loving patience and blind impulse,
the current beneath sweeping us
away into where our souls fold together.
Beneath all of our seasons,
rain turned to billowing mist
tapering off into the cool dusk,
into the vast coast we first met near.
Hands find you in the moonlight,
torrents left your locks tangled,
left our skin absolutely fuming
with heat’s invisible dance through pores
before we become writhing shadows,
ready to be swept into the tide.
You whisper to go slow this time,
sink into that deep delicious dark,
the enfolding ebb and flow that await
us at our most raw and vulnerable.
To awaken the gravity that split
us into entirely different worlds,
to set the course back to where
we only spoke with touch.
You sing fury into the most tender calm,
finally able to give up the ghost
of a heart’s unceasing restless demands,
as if you couldn’t breathe without our fire.
The flame was that mystic bridge
between the shivers in silent consent
and consuming with a territorial roar,
between the cracks aglow in your heart
and what in you commands to be sated.
Beneath all of our undone layers,
hands clasp yours in the dark,
rainbows spill through your eyes,
over the fluttering beat
I can hear without words.
Whispering to go slow this time.
