We are both exposed here
but have always been
naked to one another.

This once felt so invasive.

The first time my palm
moved down your spine,
wondering what formed you,
if you believe my hands
are more than a vague echo.

Every response suggests veiled consent,
a feigned shyness I've always seen through.

I'm more than trembling from
the anticipation of contact,
the culmination of seizing
what needs reside in you.

When I charge the warmth,
spread you open with fingertips
and drive inside to soothe your ache,
do you feel the patience?

The possession in my touch
melting you into molten rivers.

You have been told the usual
lines and pleas many times before,
in perfect pitch,
in longing timbres....

"I belong to you,
now you're mine,
you're the only one, baby,
please, let me inside."

We are both exposed here now
but have always been
so naked to one another.

I don't need to be invasive.

I don't need to speak
in clever subtle puns
or calculate blunt, racy lines
to burn you from the inside.

To make you shiver just from
the anticipation of being opened,
the culmination of heat spreading
through a velvet channel
as you seize around my tongue.

Every motion will help you
see right through me.

When you clench down
at the precise moment,
you'll be wrapped tightly
around the most secret pitch,
the longing timbre that escapes
when your rivers pour.

The possession in your release
will confess everything
that I need to know,
will show you how naked we are
before our full consent is even unveiled.