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We kiss like fire and wind drifting, into the woods of our unspoken sins.

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I was on fire. You didn’t even hesitate stepping into the flames. After tonight I am certain all the neighbors know your name.
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I write poetry in my sleep because you only visit me in my dreams.
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I write to feel closer to you.
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I watch in silence as day turns to dusk as our love turns to dust.
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Tell me I’m your sweet thing so I can simmer in sweet dreams tonight.
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He looks at me as if I’m the flame and he’s the sea; he’d turn his tide for a chance to burn with me.
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Play me a symphony of love with your tongue. It doesn’t have to be romantic.
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I imagine myself cold as ice falling into your open arms. Everyone says it’s beautiful where I am but I’d rather be where you are.
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You want to taste my ruby lips but fear they’ll leave a mark. Loving you is trespassing, forbidden access to an insecure heart.
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Your presence is poetic, mysterious and deep. If you don’t mind I’d like to read you; uncover the dirty secrets hidden within your pages and fill that missing space between your sheets.
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I dream about the body I wish I had and all the ways I could be touched in it.
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