I don’t soften when it’s you.
I go feral.
The sheets disappear
the moment I feel you near.
Only heat remains,
thick, animal, undeniable.
My body leans forward
before permission,
before thought survives.
Your touch finds me.
Something ancient wakes.
No patience,
no civility,
only want
cracking open my chest.
I close my eyes for you,
not to be gentle,
because the need
is too sharp to watch.
My breath gives me away,
fast, broken, hungry.
Every rise, every fall,
an answer.
When I whisper, please,
it isn’t careful.
It’s sound, torn from instinct,
saying:
take me
the way hunger takes,
without asking,
without mercy.
I open to you
the way the wild opens,
teeth bared,
pulse loud.
This isn’t romance.
This is recognition.
I want you.
My body chose you.
Restraint feels like a lie.
Don’t be gentle.
Be true.
Claim me
with the certainty
that I was never asking.
I was calling,
waiting for you
to answer.
Like an animal
who knows
exactly
what I am.
