by M. Joseph Boehler

she beckons, proud breasts pressed against a whisper-thin dress,

a living alter of form that shivers under silk.

her fearless heart beats wild, claiming mine as its own,

while heat pools in the depth of my chest.

i drink the honeyed curve of her, breath falling like ash,

and the world tilts—time unspools into a whirlwind of pulse and pulse.

each gasp fans the fire, each breath stokes the blaze,

until the air itself seems to crackle with our hunger.

we merge, body and mind melting into primal fire.