Twisting
Turning
Writhing
Wrapped tightly ‘round my thoughts
Squeezing
Squirming
Demanding
To ignore it would be naught
Powerful
Majestic
Destructive
Leaves logic dead in its wake
Beautiful
Sernene
Inviting
Maybe I’ll listen this once

We had a spark
That could light up a world
That spark between us
Was undeniable and intense
The electric fire
Can be felt and seen
The spark we made
It could have fused
Endless possibilities
I can remember how it felt
I can still see it in your eyes
Through our hands
Through our lips
But at the end of the day
That's all it ever was
Just a spark
And it became
Nothing more than that

they told you no.
they meant never.

they tried to carve
a life without passion—
because passion is poverty,
and you deserved better.

just wait, little one.
the world will carry
your name on its tongue.
the dream they stole,
quiet as a matchstick,
burned through a decade.

today
you’ll strike it—

and the whole sky
will burst into flames.

I want to know.
How it feels,
when your name
unfolds on my tongue,
chanted,
left in breath,
invoking -
to linger in thought,
not just spoken,
but felt,
when it calls
to just be close,
and present.

Breathing out,
slowly,
in gravity,
let it sink,
deepen,
descend -
to another level,
to another question
is it too much,
or less than enough?
Because what you ask
might reveal more
than you mean,
more than the answer
can ever hold.

I want to know.
How it curls
behind closed lips,
not to hurt,
but left unspoken
in the hollow of my ribs.

How it feels,
when it marks,
grabs your neck,
holds your pulse,
takes your breath
not just with teeth
of hands,
but with freedom
of not holding back.

What it does,
open the mouth.
Silence follows,
shuts the eye to half,
and let it just breathe.
Pulse.
Slowing down.
Freeze -
in the moment
of heat.

And after,
when felt in the gut,
with memory
and weight.
Resonates.
Like an echo
of you, in me.
A midday longing.
Leaves nothing...
to hide,
to prove -
but stays.

Her voice, a river of steady flame,  
Eyes alight with purpose, untamed.  
Depth in silence, a boundless creed,  
Each word she breathes a living seed.  

A truth she holds, fierce and alive,  
Through storms of doubt, she’ll always strive.  
Passion, her compass, her soul’s demand,  
A world ignites beneath her hand.

A spark, a glance, a whispered word,
A longing deep, a soul unstirred.
The everyday, the same old dance,
A love grown quiet, a fading chance.

But words like wine, a potent brew,
Can paint a world, exciting, new.
Of touch and taste, of skin on skin,
Where passion blooms, and lives within.

Not just a need, a simple claim,
But whispered secrets, a lover's game.
Desire unveiled, no longer shy,
A shared adventure, you and I.

The fire sleeps, it embers low,
****** whispers help it grow.
Imagination takes its flight,
And paints the darkness full of light.

So read aloud, let words take hold,
A story whispered, brave and bold.
For in that fire, rekindled bright,
A deeper passion finds its light.