You may only get to see what I want to show you,
I cannot name this heat, this pull between us,
but hands can ask the body anything,
its darkest and sweetest yearnings laid out
through the beating within your veins.

Within a flowering threshold surrendering
the deepest secret you've owned,
whispered to me in the most hesitant timbre.

But you shouldn't already know the words
before they have a chance to escape lips,
the ghost of each one plucked from my lungs
like lines of poetry that you've memorized.

You've penned the verse between
and through my pages,
even if words can be set in stone,
you don't trust such engravings.

You want the notes to travel somewhere deeper
to create a lasting unique mark,
inking yourself into me below the skin.

Just remember that every kiss
and touch is like a fingerprint,
each one too specific to be duplicated or false
when the precise friction we create is pure
immediacy flashing through our locked eyes.

You may only get to see what I want to show you,
in the dim reflection of some other mirrored globe,
I may able to name this pull between us
and give you so much more in return.

I'd let your hands undo every knot,
pull away every single stitch
to the fabric that makes me,
I would clasp your heart to mine
and know the yearnings impatiently beating within.

But you shouldn't already know this much
of the melody that can bridge our bodies together,
sway them in perfect concert with notes
trembling through aching cores.

Things can slow down for a moment,
because you don't trust such velocity
and take time to truly set your claim
upon me deep below the skin

Just so I never forget the way you move me,
sear into the phantom of any other touch I've known
when striking mysterious chords,
rendering no border too illicit to taste.

I may only get to know you this way,
unable to name the pull between us,
the mouth softly closing over mine,
leading hands below to a threshold
surrendered with a whisper.

With a timbre reverberating through
the most secret place we know how to show.