The Slow Burn

Your hands find mine; a spark, a claim,

No hesitation, just the flame.

The air is thick with what we know:

This fire won’t wait, won’t burn too slow.

Your lips, a brand against my skin,

A mark, a promise, pulling in.

No whispered maybes, no retreat;

Only the heat where bodies meet.

The sheets are silk, the night is deep,

Your touch a vow I’m sworn to keep.

No teasing now, no games remain,

Just you, and I, and this sweet pain.

Your breath is mine, my name’s your plea,

A rhythm wild, a melody.

No need to ask, no need to speak;

The answer’s in the way you seek.

So take me slow, but take me true,

Let every touch be fierce, be new.

For love like this isn’t a dance;

It’s surrender to the chance.