Your entrance is a spark that lights my every nerve,
a cheeky ember in the dark, a heat I can’t conserve.
When you move, the room sighs, the air grows bold and keen,
and suddenly I’m chasing whispers of you, like a fever at the scene.
Your lips write headlines on my skin with every kiss,
bold punctuation, red and sweet, a reckless kind of bliss.
Your laugh teases my pulse, a rhythm I can’t ignore,
each note a playful dare that leaves me wanting more.
Eyes that flash mischief, a game you love to play,
I’m hooked on the chase, I’m burning day by day.
You lure me closer with a smile that knows my name,
and in that spark, I lose the world, yet find a flame.
Your body writes poems along the map of my hands,
every touch a headline, every sigh a shifting sand.
We rewrite the night in sultry, breathless prose,
two bodies speaking in a language only shadows know.
Let me be your temptation, your wish granted, your flame,
the mirror to your daring, the caller of your name.
In the hush between us, we write our own bold note,
a lingerie of whispers and touch that keeps us afloat.