A Lovers Liturgy

I get distracted for a second

and there you are.

In my thoughts.

Consuming my soul. My heart. My mind

I think of you in ways i can’t name.

I want to be yours entirely.

I want to touch you and only feel me down each trail.

Your lips, mouth, insides, your heart.

I want to make love to you the way poets write about intensities.

Slow.

Then fast,

but only at your command.

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There is that look you give me
the one where your stare and bite your lip,
and something electric shoots through me,
a heat so sudden it makes my body remember itself.

how a single teasing gesture from you
can undo me more than chaos ever could.

How you make anticipation feel like its own kind of pleasure,
like standing at the edge of something wild
and wanting to fall while thinking I could outrun the world on nothing but the rush of you.

I want to push you against the wall while I take you in my mouth and hear you let out cries of pleasure.

That sound that destroys my senses,

renders me weak, leaving me helplessly in love with you.

I want your hand tangled in mine,
your breath unsteady against my skin,
your laughter mixing with the kind of tension that makes the air feel too small for us.

I want kisses that start gentle
and become confessions.
Touches that say everything words are too shy to hold.
I want to learn every language your body speaks, the way you melt and then rise again,
like desire is both fire and prayer.

I want you to lean on me for comfort and also when you’re exhausted from the countless climaxes we’ve both reached.

I want you on every counter, bed, every surface that exists.

I want to take you in my mouth in every state and place my tongue in every orifice your body has.

I want to be choked by you, loved by you and touched by only you.

I want to be the reason your thoughts wander at inconvenient times,
the reason your pulse changes when my name is mentioned,
the reason longing feels less like suffering
and more like proof that something this consuming exists.

I want to be yours.
not in a possessive way,
but in a way that says losing the chance to love you
would feel like letting go of something sacred.

I want my name to be the only words your mouth utters after each I love you.

I want your body aching with a desire only I can fill.

And when we’re not together I want you to ache with longing.

And then show me how much being apart from me wrecks you.

Worship me!

punish me!

reward me for each good deed I do to your body.

I want you to be mine

And sometimes I think how mad I’ll be

to let you be someone else’s.

SONG: SALTED WOUND BY SIA