I taste you
and realize I have been starving all my life.
Your touch ignites a hunger—
a yearning buried deep, dormant,
hidden beneath layers of quiet longing.
The salt of your skin lingers on my tongue,
an ocean tide pulling me under.
Your breath, a whisper,
brushes my neck like soft velvet,
setting my pulse to a rhythm only you can play.
I trace the curve of your spine
as if reading scripture,
holy and forbidden,
my fingertips trembling,
a pilgrim at the altar of you.
Every sigh you release
fills the hollow places inside me,
flooding deserts with rivers of fire.
I taste you,
and the world blurs,
shrinks to the warmth of your body,
the echo of your name on my lips.
How is it
that I have lived this long
without knowing the ache of wanting,
the sweetness of surrender,
the sharp edges of bliss
that cut and heal in the same breath?
You consume me.
I am lost in you,
starving no more,
yet endlessly ravenous,
my soul burning
in the flame of your presence.
