its the scratch in my throat
the goose flesh following your fingertips
your desire knotted in my hair

it's less the way i please you
and more the way our bodies curve and
mold together

the way your lips hum against my skin
whispering
baby girl
aching, like an oath.

the way i never thought submission would
mean safety.

the way the arc and fall of
your voice brings me an
indescribably truthful warmth

through my collarbones and eyelids and



i love you.