You poured your breath like warm wine onto my skin,
And it seeped into every crack I had never shown you,
Until I was wet with something older than the wine.
Your fingers like long branches of hunger, touched me like a map you had burned before,
Tracing my neck down to the valley that experienced dips of gasps.
My mind was eclipsed by something black,
Not from fear, but from the depth of falling into something darker than sleep
And deeper than prayer.
Your lips poured ancient hymns into mine and took my aches with each kiss,
Until I lost myriad pieces of myself that were never meant to be kept.
Your hands gripped the curve of my hips and lifted me,
Not as a man lifts a woman, but as a storm lifts the sea,
I was no longer mine, but just a wave offering surrender.
When your tongue descended to the tremble of my belly,
And found the silk between my thighs, I wept into your hair.
I arched to worship the moment when
I was fully seen, fully consumed, fully remembered.
Your dark eyes looked into the center of me in a way that made my shadows blush into redness.
It was the holy fire between two sinners who forgot to ask for forgiveness.
I gasped, I trembled, I vowed as each wave took a part of me to heaven.
Finally, the room melted into sound and salt, and you breathed again on my damp skin.
I laughed in the dark as you whispered, “How can love live in the heat of such ruin?”
Because this wasn’t ruin.
It was resurrection.
This isn’t just romance.
It’s spiritual, it’s ruin, and it’s rebirth.
It’s the kind of love that devours and delivers...all in one breath.
