Burnt Offerings

Go softly.
Do not grow substantial,
let me taste you on the day,
always.

Envelop me
in an agony of passion,
distilled perfume of sheets,
anguish and defeat.

My mouth seeks to anchor you.
I swallow a magnolia.
My tongue learns textures,
the shape of your secrets.

Teach me this raw, quivering imagery.
It is all sweet contact,
a perfection of collarbones,
never enough.

Elude me to the point of madness,
then offer no surrender.
Pull my body onto yours,
slide me into place.

I am haunted by a kiss,
the slowness of innocent things.
Your hand creeps under my dress,
fingers poised for the kill

as you bury my mouth
in yours,
but just breathe.
Just.  Breathe.