The pleasure of your burning air
Hot words unspoken against my skin
Cheeks flush with hostage sighs
and the soft hardness of something beyond lust
but before the deeper shades of love.
Intense and light,
this conversation of hands and lips and eyes
says too many things at once and not enough.
And so we continue,
Speaking over one another in a jumble of touches and tastes
Reveling in the quiet storm of our debate
Each greedy in our desire to make our point
Breath becomes our intermediary
Weaving two lines of longing into one liturgy of fervor.
Thoughts lose themselves in its hungry recitation….
- the South