If you live for their acceptance, you'll die by their rejection
I embody the poison in the elixir of my fruit
Enthralled with thoughts, habits, expressions of thine self

Adoration for passion infects me with your selection
Your concoction soaked the tree of my root
If you live for their acceptance, you'll die by their rejection

Sought by the bread of affliction
I'm concrete in my own pursuit
Enthralled with thoughts, habits, expressions of thine self

Infatuation fueled my permission
A fire of conviction, enticed by a bite of a core once rebuked
If you live for their acceptance, you'll die by their rejection

Idle in submission
Innocence lies on the bed of my tongue to taste its fruit
Enthralled with thoughts, habits, expressions of thine self

Caught beneath the lukewarm embrace of sweet lies within inner disputes
Agony dresses my soul as it peels off its linen in its pursuit
If you live for their acceptance, you'll die by their rejection
Enthralled with thoughts, habits, expressions of thine self

love is like a wild fire.

not in the way that it spreads and is warm making you so enamoured in someone

no

love is like the stinging heat of the blaze surrounding my home

attacking

unforgiving

love is the flames of heated passion that devour and encapsulate entire families in destruction

love takes everything you hold dear

everyone

and tears them to shreds.

love is not kind to everyone.

love sometimes looks like hatred.

And have you ever heard how poppies smell?
They are so huge, so wild, so ruby-colored!
They're summer harbingers, the lights of fields!
They are so thrilling, brave and so uncovered!

These poppies easily can put you to the sleep
Or even **** you with no difficult at all!
They're real flashes, doping! They're taboo!
They're passion, craziness and sin in whole!

And have you ever heard how poppies smell?
They are as red as real blood itself!
No? You haven't heard it? Oh, it's sad. You know,
That's how heartfelt and true love just smells.

Fill the room temperature of my lungs with your kiss's breath –
room temperature wine; compared to your lipstick, and a fine silken
complimented red dress. My compliments to the night, two bodies
twinned into each other, close to the hip’s side. We started off a feast
of sides; you took a piece of my heart – served on a platter. And by
your worth, you must cry diamond tears that cut your face; I tasted
all of your scars.

In the dark, we kiss in the warmth of our love, that it grows a spark –
the elephant in the room; how could I ever forget what you always
meant to me! You split my lips; opening myself to you as I told you
the deeper parts of my story – we are at the same level of building
this close connection, waiting on this storey.

You murdered my soul; killing parts of my time just to spend it all
on you – piercing me into silence from my core; the cause of you
smothering me in the heat of love. Nay, I dropped onto my feet
galloping after your love, crying after it in a whinnying neigh.

I’m a horse in love.

The curves
of our bodies,
intricately designed,

like whispered prayers
folded into flesh,
etched by hands that knew
we would meet.

Echo the same thoughts,
synchronously aligned,
your breath,
a hymn against my skin,
your touch,
a scripture I long to read.

Fate stitched us together
in silent knowing,
yet here we stand—
near, but never near enough.

Passion is something that coats my skin.
It runs through my veins constantly.... knowing that this is it's home.
Passion is a feeling, a power, being alive at midnight because your mind can't shut off. every muscle in your brain always on memorizing unimportant details because that's what catches it's attention.
Passion is having no one match your energy, feeling like nothing is ever enough.
Passion and I are best friends.... always have been. we live for one another. knowing we'll never find a kindred soul.

Love sits on the windowsill, watching, / watching, / watching
not close enough to touch, yet its breath melts the frost,  
soft as a dying ember, cruel as the wind that snuffs it.  

Oh, I have seen love / gnawing the bones of the moon,  
worshipped it in the fever of hands that mistake  
devotion for the slick pulse of need
tell me, tell me, where does love end, and lust begin?  
When do lips become razors, and kisses become graves?  

I have kissed a ghost in the shape of a lover,  
felt their breath stitched into my ribs,  
and called it devotion. Called it fate.  
But love does not come home, it lingers,  
it haunts, it perches between throat and hunger.  

Lust wears the same perfume as longing  
a scent that lingers on sheets,  
that stains the skin with feverish scripture.  
And yet, love, / love, / love
it is a wound that hums lullabies,  
a flood that never reaches the roots.  

Let me love you the way ruin loves the cathedral
so sacred, so brutal, so inevitable.  

Tell me
is it heaven, is it hell,  
or is it just the way the heart breaks beautifully?

It seems like a raw hallucination,  
a slow-burning betrayal,  
a collision of unspoken hunger,    
Here we are,  
The room shakes,  
a flicker of voices,  
but they blur, distant, static, pale shadows against the raw pulse of your eyes locking with mine.

Across the room, she burns like a flare
A flicker,
a spark,
a collision waiting to happen,
her body wrapped in midnight blue, tight as the space between us,
every inch of her, a story begging to be read,
and my eyes are the ink,
drenching her in fire
with every stolen glance.

Her eyes
green fire,
a flash,
a flicker.
She knows.
She knows what she’s doing
that slow curl of her lips,
that cheeky smile like a dare
just for me,
just for me to walk through hell and burn
under the weight of her gaze,
the weight of what she won’t say.
The room
all of it is fading,
shrinking,
too small for the things she makes me want,
the ache that rises between us like a wave
turbulent,
wild,
unstoppable.

The way her body moves,
a fluid curve of heat that sets fire to my bones.
She’s the reason I can’t breathe,
the reason every thought is broken into fragments,
each one more desperate than the last—
her skin, soft as stolen breath,
her throat,
her thighs,
every inch of her an invitation I’m not sure I can resist.
And I want
oh god, I want,
her skin under my fingertips,
her breath caught on my lips,
her name
no, not her name,
but the way her mouth would scream it
when I make her mine.

She smiles again
that **** smile,
too innocent,
too knowing,
and I feel the pull,
the desire curling like a fist around my chest,
like I’m drowning in her.
I’m already lost,
lost in the places where I haven’t even touched,
but I can feel it
can taste it
can hear her pulse like thunder under my skin.

My hands ache,
my body aches,
everything
the ache is unbearable,
but she’s so far away.
She’s playing a game,
a game I’ll play,
but she’s winning,
god, she’s winning.

Her eyes flicker down
a promise,
a tease
and everything in me shifts.
I’m not the man I was
before that look,
before she shattered me with just a smile.
Her lips,
her thighs,
the heat of her
it’s all consuming,
the air between us thick with the taste of it,
the hunger I won’t deny.

She knows.
She knows this game is hers to win.
But I’m already lost,
already burning,
already thinking of what we’ll do
when the space between us is nothing but ashes.