Silken breath on the edge of night,
whispers crawl beneath the skin,
incense of forbidden skin.
Slow pulse, slow flame—
we kneel in the cathedral of sighs,
where every moan is a prayer
and every gasp is Amen.
Tongues write gospels on ivory hips,
time dissolves in velvet drips.
Take me deeper than regret,
where saints and sinners both forget.
Lust is law, and we obey,
losing names in the dark we sway.