Don't tell me about passion, 

how the flesh covering bones

can rarely see beyond the flames

once so deliciously scorched. 

Once so exposed for another to see, 

all of my mistakes and scars handed over

for you to hold and see yourself within. 

Don't confess your fears with a sound, 

let me sense your fragile heart 

as it beats against my own,

hums at the core of all we are. 

Don't explore or tempt me with words, 

the light in your eyes casts a hungry glow, 

telegraphs what language often obscures

with far too much unnecessary detail. 

Speak to me with arms and legs

wrapping around me in the night, 

sing your song with a deep kiss

that roars with furious curiosity. 

Don't tell me about need 

or speak about the soul, 

about what makes creatures beautiful 

enough to sink entirely through the skin, 

twined into a perfect singular form. 

Don't speak to me of need, 

mirror it with pure lust 

glazing our locked eyes, 

coating tongues that endlessly search 

and vibrate in a chorus of moans

surging with every raw thrust. 

Once so exposed for another to know, 

all of our wants communicated

before throbs awaken and race, 

where your tight channel clenches

to say how I belong to you. 

So don't tell me about connection 

when I carry us wherever I go, 

when I taste you in every breath, 

speaking without a word. 

Humming at the core of all we are.