Unspoken, Yet Yours (My Poetry)

We don’t collide like thunder or flame,
We arrive like dusk, soft-spoken, unnamed.
Your touch is a question my skin understands,
A language of pauses, of almost, of hands.
Your breath finds my pulse, a quiet rebellion,
Time loosens its grip, the world turns mellower.
Lips hover close—an unspent vow—
Desire is sweetest in the will we now?
You trace me like poetry written in ink,
Each line a promise, each pause a wink.
I melt in the space where your heartbeat shows,
Where closeness hums low and slowly grows.
Love isn’t loud—it’s the ache to stay,
To bare your soul and not look away.
In the hush between us, the stars conspire—
Two bodies whispering the shape of fire.