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.