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Eyes of forest upon eyes of midnight   

our souls become singular and flowing   

like a soft and meandering current 

filling one and then the other   

and then the other again, 

until we are each the same stream 

Fingertips made of satin stroking skin 

made of silk stretched over stone   

my body feels heavy and hot, 

desire stoked into fire when we speak   

ciphers made of love and of dreams   

sculpted around our longing.   

Bottom lips escape into tight spaces   

between teeth and tongues dart out   

of their own accord to wet lips   

yearning to taste the first kiss that 

will bring with it the tide of satiety, 

but first of taste and touch. 

Sharply inhaling breaths forged solely 

from adoration reserved for lust, 

from a white hot need burning in my chest 

clumsy, shaky fingers grip my own skin   

while my tongue wets lips gone dry   

at the sight of your wanting 

The first long exhale, a sigh from your lips   

that signals your climb towards the peak   

has settled in and my fingers now belong   

to the pitch of your stuttered breathing   

and to the symphony of your wicked 

and delicious suffering. 

And when you come apart and I say your name, 

I splinter into a million tiny stars 

my soul soaring closer and closer   

to my sun until they begin to shimmer   

and float lazily back to my body 

where they settle in new configurations