Until I Am Undone

Ours is a slower kind of love,

one fraught with decadence,

heavy with longing,

and unquenchable desire.

Ours is a deeper kind of love,

where time is velvet on my skin

and your lips linger,

stretching seconds into eternity,

your subtle stroke blurring the edges of my landscape

until I no longer know where I end and you begin.

Other lovers thrust and howl,

but we are a serenade,

the lines of light and dark

melding into twilight.

Allow me to be suspended here,

between unbidden moan and resonant depth.

Allow me to be consumed

by a symphony of sensation and rhythmic melody.

Allow me to surrender

to your urgent hands

and worship of my flesh.

For ours is an unyielding kind of love,

where sinners find indulgent pleasure,

and my body is undone.