I want more than a no-deposit love,  
No swipe-right ghosts in AI’s deep mind,  
But roots that grip beneath love’s steadfast streams.

Your touch—a language no algo could define,  
Let our wild and free fingers each explore,
I want more than a no-deposit love,  
No swipe-right ghosts in AI’s deep mind,  

My body yearns for tides, not screen's pale shine—  
Not the mute glow where lost texts ignore,
Each match, a ghost that the void, forevermore—  
I want more than a no-deposit love,  
No swipe-right ghosts in AI’s deep mind,  
But roots that grip beneath love’s steadfast streams.

The snows retreat, our longing begins crafting dreams, hope.
Like autumn’s hush, at our feet slip silken seams, hope.

The daily grind lives, yet in your arms I’m home, hope.
We long to sip again where skin’s moonlit gleams, hope.

Short days? We’ll stitch the dark with moans—no guilt, no worries, hope.
Your pulse, my compass—we’ll sail this thaw like a stream, hope.

No holidays—we’ll burn the hours in sweat’s hot baths, hope.
Your nails carve rivers where my shivers melt to cream, hope.

No sun? We’ll braid our shadows into one fevered trance, hope.
Your tongue maps constellations where my hips scream, hope.

Resolutions faded, we invent new desires, hope.
Savoring new rhythms, our lips capture sunlit beams, hope.

Secret places—your mouth, a vineyard, overgrown, free, hope.  
We’ll bloom where the soil forgets frost, where wild things seem, hope.

Luna & Sol—no storm can quench what our skins believe, hope.
In Gaia’s soothing haven, we chase our wildest schemes, hope.

A naturist, I shed the day’s tight notes—  
My flesh unbinds as cello strings softly sway
The bath exhales a vapor-softened throat,  
Its liquid song dissolves the stress of day.

You breach my silence while my fingers play—
No words, just layers pooled where footsteps passed.  
The water hums a frequency unchained,  
Your back rests softly, knows my ******* are cast.

Your fingers trace my folds, our tones slowly grow—
A throbbing drone our mingled pores now greet.  
The soundscape swells where flesh begins to know
The crush of solitude our heat completes.  

The water cools, yet still our bodies own  
Two silences embraced by undertow.

Her lips, now draw so near mine—
static hums,
lightning sings,
my fingertips zing.

Our breath suspends in flight,
threads pulled oh so tight;
My hunger coils—
her taste, pure starlight.

Our flesh enraptures,
trembles nearly bare—
a storm unfolds,
surging ever slowly— there.

We stand unrobed where daylight splits the air,
Her thighs a bramble, mine are smooth and spare.
The mirror's glare reveals what we both share:
One breast a plum, its twin a rounder pear.

Time’s cursive scrawls on skin we’ve learned to bare—
Her stretchmarks ripple, tides, my palms embrace.
No clues hide the faint silver in her hair—
My thumb traces the laugh-lines on her face. 

Past phantoms fade—two clocks now beat as one.
Her skin, once chilled, now thaws beneath my sighs;
My stony silence ripens into sun;
Time-frozen hearts melt in each other's eyes.

Your mouth—a fig split ripe—now drinks my moan:
We fuse to one fierce sun, no dusk, no dawn.

Her hair spills starlight, raw as unbaked bread— 
Each strand a comet’s trail my lips pursue.
No thread divides our skin, risen on breath;  
Hips hide her crescent moon, eclipse the blue.  

The mirror drinks us whole—no blind, no hidden clues— 
our doubled forms a psalm of breath and flame.  
Sound of skin on skin, a tide, laps where desires subdue;
Your fingers chart the pulse-light, vane by vane.  

No shadow lives where tongues chase the day—  
her wetness, a prism, splits what dark ignites.  
The air grows thick, our love scent we can’t unsay—  
Each gasp refracts to hues where her desires lie, night.

Your eyes—black pools where all my shadows drown—  
we fuse to one eclipse, no dusk, no dawn.