Heatspell

BETWEEN BREATH & BONE

Your breath

finds the hollow of my neck

like a secret returning home.

The room softens-

walls becoming dusk,

time loosening its grip

as your hands learn

the grammar of my skin.

Every slow touch

is a vow in a language

we only speak

with the lights low,

the world forgotten,

and desire warm

as a whispered spell

between our mouths.

Reviews

[Lara]

Sensual enough to set incense sticks a-light.

Good control. Well done, Sarah.

[Curly Grace]

Thank You so much