So when the moon dips low again, we’ll light fresh neon in our blood and ride the desert heat until another dawn is spun.HUSHED INFERNO
Night slides ink-black down the drapes, cloaking every corner tight, while your silhouette cuts hot and white across the floor,
Lamp-glow crowns your shoulders with a reef of flickering sparks that hitch my breathing higher than the thunder on the distant thoroughfare’s roar,
Buttons scatter from your blouse, bronze hail skimming boards as eager fingers trace the path of quickened pulse I cannot ignore,
We collide—two charged storms—lips welding fire to fire until even silence starts to smolder, begging louder for the coming heat we swore.
Cloth pools low in surrenders of satin and denim, skin greeting skin in flashes of electric wine that spill and stain the air,
Your palms score trails along my back, bright stinging comets spelling promises across the quiver of unguarded nerve laid bare,
Hips find rhythm, slow then fierce, a forge that hammers metal want to molten flow, each thrust a tolling bell beyond repair,
Sweat beads rise like liquid stars, rolling down the slopes of muscle, glowing proof that fierce temptation owns us here.
You arch, a living bow pulled taut, releasing cries that rattle shutter slats while I sink deeper into the surge we’ve willed,
Mattress springs chime tribal cadence, urging greater speed until our hearts out-drum the ceiling fan that spins half-wild but thrilled,
Teeth graze collarbone, a spark of pain that sweetens every gasp, igniting floods no merciful command could ever have stilled,
Pressure coils, tightening rings of lightning round our ribs, until twin flares erupt—white fuse of craving spilling, spilling—overfilled.
Afterglow drifts slow and heavy, gilding limbs entwined upon the sheets, every breath a shared, reluctant sigh that staves off chill,
Your fingertip draws wandering circles on my chest, coaxing embers back to life despite their wish to hibernate until the moon climbs windowsill,I kiss the salt along your brow, tasting hints of dusk-born sparks that promise midnight will invite our reckless shadows for another thrill,
For once a hushed inferno brands the blood it never sleeps; it simply waits beneath the pulse, patient, hungry, and forever in lieu of still.