Tangle.

She moved over me

like heat finding heat—

no rush,

just the slow undoing

of everything tight

and guarded.

Her mouth took me in

with reverence,

like she’d been waiting all day

just to taste my name.

I held her face in my hands,

watched the rhythm

of her lips,

the way she listened

with her body,

how every breath

was an answer.

And then—

I pulled her up,

kissed her full,

tasting the wanting

between us,

our mouths

wet with promise.

She opened for me

so easily,

thighs parting

like language I already spoke.

I knelt between her,

offered my tongue

like prayer,

like fire.

She gasped,

tilted her hips—

that silent yes

echoing through

her whole body.

We gave to each other

in turns

and in tandem,

no beginning,

no end—

just mouths and hands

and the tender ache

of being known

so deeply

by someone who wants

nothing more

than to give

everything.