It's the sound moaning against
the rapid pulse that my lips
burrow into when tasting
the soft skin of your neck.
You hear enough to realize
no other name escapes me
with such breathless abandon,
with such needy timbres
lingering in the heated air
as you surge into my covetous kiss.
The moment your fingers close
around my thick and swelling ache,
a metaphor for the world in your hands,
for molten veins rushing in needy rivers.
How I trespass slickened folds
inch by rapturous inch,
the slow thrust into pure bliss
elicits a silent cry held in a gasp.
It's a frequency only lovers are intimate with,
echolocation emitted from the deepest core.
Nails suddenly breaking skin in your grip,
proof that you pierce levels just as sensitive,
ruthlessly branded with a proud signature
as I claim you inside with a mark of my own.
The pleas that helplessly escape
when your silken tunnel clutches tight,
coaxes molten to its boiling point,
to a flowing harmony of countless throbs.
You sense more than enough to know
the slightest shifts in ragged breaths,
tremors like ancient tectonic plates
grinding together deep below the earth
signal you to cling to me tighter than ever.
The moment our eyes eclipse with ecstasy,
like we are opals streaming all spectrums,
entire rainbows and stars flashing,
shimmering as we burst into molten rivers.
It all pours through our joined frequency,
echolocation emitted from our most secret folds...
The moment I become yours.