Your breath,hot, shallow,threads the silencelike a fuse.
My skin learns your handsby instinct,not memory.Nothing rehearsed.Only need.
You taste like defiance,like something stolenand meant to be swallowedwhole.
The night stretches,long,low,breathless.
No words,only your back archedlike a questionI will not answeruntil you're shaking.
And even then,I'll make you ask again.