Lost

I’m no good at love poems.

But the way your fingertips
Dance their abstract patterns
On my hips
The way your teeth graze my neck
And my lips

Makes my mouth long to speak
those pretty words
As much as it longs to caress your skin.

And I stumble and fumble for words
To tell you what you mean to me—

And you silence me with kisses like fire
Of the most pleasant sort.
Like embers smoldering on my skin
Hot, jarring, and oddly painless.

I’m enveloped.

And your fingers keep dancing
Your teeth keep grazing
Your kisses keep burning
And I’m lost to you.