There will be nothing gentle
in what you have incited,
the feral core animated
by a curious breach.

Your secrets have been kept long enough
and I have no more to hand over now,
like faint premonitions humming in the air,
you'll know everything once this distance closes.

Just like how my back curved
into a helpless trembling arch
when your lips sealed around
and began to devour me.

Or when I was quenched
by ambrosia throbbing from
your delicate glistening slit,
a universe seized around my tongue.

Our atoms became anomalies
tuned to only one other being.

Those moments hand over
more than confessions,
it's when I will tell you every secret
you have ever yearned to untie.

But there will be nothing gentle
in what you have incited,
the unbridled core surges
to your knowing cadence.

A premonition begins to cocoon us
as we glide along in perfect harmony,
flesh in its most fluid twining,
naked beyond skin simply exposed.

I don't think we ever truly know
what's been awakened until we're taken.

Our secrets have been kept long enough,
this is when we unleash them all
as if touch can become glyphs,
our bodies will confess everything.

Like fingers curling around your waist,
strumming a slick bud as you're impaled,
territory marked and taken now
from within deep inside.

Or when I helplessly tremble,
as you moan to not hold back,
command to not be gentle,
to explode into the glistening universe,
depths relentlessly seizing around me.

There will be a stillness in our aftermath,
our atoms tuned to only one other being.

I will tell you the rest then,
when all that sang and screamed inside
spirals back down to slowly breathe,
to softly hum us both to sleep.

Until that core can know rest,
there will be nothing gentle.