You haunt the edges of my restraint.
Every thought of you
tightens into hunger.
I taste you in the air before you arrive—
a sweetness that makes me ache.
If I could have you now,
I'd take you like a storm takes the sea,
pulling until there's nothing left
but surrender.
Your body is a language
I've learned by heart,
every curve a sentence
I can't stop rereading.
When I close my eyes,
I feel the heat of your breath
against my throat,
the tremor of wanting
that neither of us can quiet.
I imagine you trembling,
caught between fear and need,
and I am undone.
You are the sin I choose
again and again—
the secret I'll never confess,
the hunger I'll never feed enough.
If this letter ever reached you,
it would burn in your hands.
But know this—
every night I write you in my mind,
and every word tastes like desire.
