Writ in Breath
In the fevered hush of midnight's retreat,
I wander the contours of an unspoken dream,
where every glance is a spell,
every touch a revolt
against the silence we were taught to keep.
I hunger for the nectar pooled before the hidden gate
like drinking from a storm-blessed chalice.
It is wild. Elemental.
A taste that unravels
and leaves only breath.
The scent of you lingers in the air
dense and edged in salt
a fragrant omen curling between our bodies
like smoke rising from sacred ruin.
Each inhale an offering,
each exhale a shared confession.
My hands trace you,
smoke on a candle's breath
palms gliding over skin
that tightens like silk drawn too fast.
You arch,
spine drawn like a bow,
a body rising in flame,
built for ruin and reverence.
I taste you slowly
a ritual,
a reckoning.
My mouth at the altar of your thighs,
devout and unhurried.
The flavor of you
flooding senses,
pulling me into something closer to truth
than anything ever spoken.
You open for me
like a sky
splitting with thunder.
And when I enter,
there is no softness
only heat and grasp
the meeting of need and myth,
a merging risen from hunger's birth,
written in trembling flesh.
We move
with purposeful rhythm
the motive, each gasp,
a vow etched in sweat,
in fingered tracks,
in the echo of our names
forced apart by desire.
More than love.
A worship.
A raw, unrepentant devotion
between gods pretending flesh.
When we break,
we dissolve,
tangled in the smoke of what we became,
marked,
remade,
and undone.
Inhibitions cease
the yearning of the flesh,
A sensual symphony where passion finds its peace,
Carnal artistry in each breath.
Just... wow ❤️