Silver chain

In the valley of your body, I am home,

lost in the curves and whispers of your skin.

I drift south, my lips tracing the stories you’ve never told,

kissing each mole like a promise only I can keep.

Your silver waist chain glimmers, a fragile thread,

binding me to the depths of your navel,

where I drown willingly,

a wanderer surrendering to your warmth.

I peel away the fabric, slow, deliberate,

watching you unravel under my hands.

The scent of you is a secret,

a language only my body understands.

I breathe you in, let you consume me,

your taste, a drug I will never quit.

My breath cools your fevered skin,

but my hunger burns hotter.

I part your thighs, my tongue a whisper,

a vow, a worship, a claim.

I savor, I take, I make you mine,

drinking you in like fire to the wick.

Your moans rise, desperate,

hips arching, fingers clawing,

your body a trembling prayer answered by my hands.

Your nails leave marks down my back,

branding me, binding me,

pulling me deeper,

where only we exist.

Let me stay here,

where time ceases,

where your pleasure is my purpose,

and I am lost in the only place I ever want to be—

you.

Blissful Erotic

You trust me,
Even knowing the unpredictability of my heart,
The uncertainty of where this path leads,
And still, you follow.
You know I will take you to the edge,
To the point where everything unravels,
And in that moment of chaos,
You will find a kind of peace,
A kind of euphoria
That only comes from letting go,
And surrendering to what is.
It’s not always gentle,
But it’s real,
And every time,
It’s undeniably
Blissful.

A Thousand Kisses

I once thought there was only one place for a kiss,
but on you, I found a thousand—
along your neck, down your spine,
soft and slow, hungry and deep.

You were made to be kissed,
to be tasted, to be known.
My lips follow the map of your skin,
learning every curve, every sigh.

In quiet moments, our hands speak,
tracing fire, pulling closer,
breathless whispers filling the space between us.
And when we finally come together,
bodies tangled, lost in the heat,
it’s more than desire—it’s knowing.

Heaven isn’t far away.
It’s right here, in us.

Permission

You—
the altar where my longing prays,
the body I have seen in dreams,
a vision carved of fire and breath,
of silk and sin, of sacred flesh.

No,
not the glint of gold or painted lips,
not lace that clings or jewels that gleam—
but the quiet thunder of your skin,
the way your curves eclipse the light.

I
am helpless in your presence,
a pilgrim aching at your door,
seeking passage through the night,
a worshiper at your core.

May
my gaze unmake you slowly,
trace the constellations of your skin,
map the valleys, climb the peaks,
drink you in—flaws and all?

May
my hands, unhurried, knowing, bold,
wander where your breath unravels,
linger where the fire pools,
write devotion on your bones?

May
my lips descend like whispered vows,
tongue seeking rivers deep,
sipping from the well of want,
drunk on the flood of your release?

Yes—
you, too, may claim me whole,
undo me with your mouth, your hands,
take me, ruin me, write me in your language,
until we are nothing but pulse and heat,
a poem only bodies can speak.