You glide your hands on my back,
as if trying to remember every flaw—
each curve a confession,
each breath is an act of devotion.

You slide them down to my hips,
tracing my love handles
that only a very few men saw.
Your fingers pause—
lingering on this
earth-incensed skin
that has learned to forget
how to be seen.

I am standing still,
blindfolded, wrists bound,
leaning against the cool wall,
anchored by trust,
lifted by surrender.

You latched your teeth on the
puckered beads on the
swell on my chest --
with passion that is so raw,
and yet so careful—
a language made
of restraint and fire.

You inched a deep breath
saying this like a law:
"Tell me how you feel."
My lips curled in moans
begging, "Wanting you so bad."

Your fingers continued
to trail my needy thighs
slowly saying,
"This is mine."
Up and down
closer and closer
to where the waters
deep within me build
in agonizing wait.

"And these, mine!"
Then you part my silky legs
as your lips trailed them,
up to my shaky knees
up to my trembling thighs.

You heard my gasps
and with a wicked grin
you deeply uttered,
"Tell me what you want now."
With a gasp, I shyly begged
"Take me."

You chuckled
and raised your voice
as your thumb
circles the swelling bud
between these warm
sunkissed legs.

"Say it louder!"
With knees shivering,
chest rising,
voice quivering,
almost crying,
"Take me, please!"

Then, without a warning,
you smothered my nectar well
lapping up the waters gushing
like a hidden waterfall in a cave.

You have mapped my body beautifully,
perhaps to own,
but certainly for me to understand—
to find the places long forgotten
never revisited until you came.

And in that hush
between ache and release,
I learn the oldest secret of touch:
that making love, at its deepest,
is not power
but permission,
is not just taking
but giving,
is not conquering
but pampering,
is not pinning
but liberating,
is not deadening
but breathing.

So now I say
over and over again,
Teach me to let go
So I can deeply know
the answers
to the lingering questions
under my skin.

Map my body
as you have done before
with marks that
I begged you to give
when this deep wanting
seemed so insatiable,
when breathing
meant exactly
receiving those
deliberate caresses
each time that you command
this now warm soul to undress.