I swear, had it not been for your hold, I would have become the wind.
Like a tethered balloon, caught on the breath of longing.
Your presence is a gentle whisper- soft as rain upon a desert, carving through walls I built long ago,
until I stand before you,
stripped of all pretense,
naked in the light of your gaze.
You trace the splits of my fingers and I tremble as if earth itself is quaking beneath us.
In your quiet touch, a secret hymn is etched into the marrow of my bones.
You say my name like a prayer,
I reach for you, in all the ways a soul can beg, until my body spills itself at your feet-
my soul unravels like a river,
pouring through the cracks in my chest,
flowing, lost in the torrent of you.
How to breathe becomes a forgotten art, so instead, I surrender like the tides to the pull of the moon.
In your arms, I find a world I never knew,
a tenderness that asks nothing,
yet holds everything I am.
I am torn between wanting to drown in this fire,
and protecting the parts of me that still shutter in the dark.
A song sung between breaths-
I close my eyes and feel everything and yet, somehow, nothing at all
You take your time, peeling away the world,
unwrapping me as if I were always meant to be seen.
Every inch of me belongs to you,
though you may never know how deeply.
You taste my curves and with a single glance you found the door I swore was lost, buried in the labyrinth where my fears lie dormant
The darkness stirs, yet all I can focus on is your thoroughness.
I have forgotten where I end and where you begin.
With every kiss, you breathe me in,
not out of hunger for my body,
but for the essence of me that lies beneath, for the forgotten parts of myself buried between the shadows
I lose myself in the weight of your touch,
a weight that pulls me under, and yet guides me closer,
closer into the orbit of you-
a gravity sure as a promise made in silence between the stars.
And with every word you speak, there is a soft release.
A peace that echoes in my chest.
A balm for the wounds I dare not speak of, that heal, ache, and burn all at once.
— Lauryn White, The Art of Surrender
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