Eyes of the Dark

Your eyes–black rivers, bottomless, obsidian with hunger–pull secrets from my bones,
Each glance a question that never leaves, a threat wrapped in longing, a promise never atoned.

You watch me as prey and as partner, a predator’s patience balanced with a lover’s ache,
The silence between us is thick with old wounds, every heartbeat a risk, every touch a loan.

Some nights I crave your hands–how they hesitate, then tighten–like chains disguised as grace,
But even in surrender I sense the danger: your love is a fever that chills, a fire made of stone.

The air between us tastes of sweat and something older, the scent of want mixed with terror,
You speak in low tones, voice rough with warnings, every word a shadow I have always known.

In every kiss, I taste winter–your tongue is a threat and a prayer,
Yet I drink it in, too starved to refuse, too haunted to atone.

I worship the cold you bring, the way my skin ignites from your disdain,
I wrap myself in your indifference, praying you’ll burn me or leave me alone.

Your touch is both wound and remedy, I heal and unravel in the same instant,
A martyr to the thrill of your cruelty, an addict who trembles at your tone.

I love you through every hour the world turns its face,
But the night is never empty–your eyes in the dark,
Always watching,
Always my home.

In every kiss, I feel the cold–ice along my ribs, dread behind my knees,
But still, your heart is all I hold–
The only warmth I ever needed,
The only shadow I never want to leave.