Red is the secret between us
the slow swell of lips,
the flush that betrays your longing
before your voice can speak.
It glows on your mouth,
smears on my skin,
a trace of hunger
that stains deeper than wine.
Red gathers where I touch you
******* tightening,
thighs trembling,
your *** darkening with heat.
Every drop, every blush,
every mark is a confession.
You write it on me with your body,
I read it with my tongue.
Red is not just seen
it is tasted,
it is swallowed,
it lingers between us
like breath,
like sin.
Sep 9, 2025
Sep 9, 2025 at 7:16 PM UTC
Red is the secret between us
the slow swell of lips,
the flush that betrays your longing
before your voice can speak.
It glows on your mouth,
smears on my skin,
a trace of hunger
that stains deeper than wine.
Red gathers where I touch you
******* tightening,
thighs trembling,
your *** darkening with heat.
Every drop, every blush,
every mark is a confession.
You write it on me with your body,
I read it with my tongue.
Red is not just seen
it is tasted,
it is swallowed,
it lingers between us
like breath,
like sin.
Request permission to use this poem