I want to be the reason
your lipstick smudges,
your voice catches,
your composure shatters.

I've memorized the sound
of my name in panting breath
when patience abandons you,
when wanting overcomes restraint.

Tell me again about propriety,
about waiting, about control.
I love watching convictions dissolve
beneath the heat of my hands.

Remember how you swore
we would take things slowly?
How quickly promises evaporate
when my fingers trace your skin.

I love the sounds you make
when you think you should be quiet,
adore the ways your body betrays
what your words try to conceal.

There's honesty in how you move,
truth in the rhythm of your breathing,
confessions in how your nails
leave crescents in my shoulders.

Nothing between us now
but skin and electricity,
the sweet tension of restraint
moments before it snaps.

I want to be the reason
your thighs tremble,
your pupils dilate,
your careful words dissolve into pleas.

Remember this when morning comes,
when you're buttoned up and proper,
how completely you came undone,
how beautifully you surrendered.

I want to haunt your meetings,
your conversations, your quiet moments,
a phantom touch remembered
at the most inconvenient times.

Tell me to stop if you mean it.

Your body speaks a different language,
one of arched backs and grasping hands,
of bitten lips and whispered demands.

Hours from now, spent and satisfied,
you'll make me promise discretion,
as if I would share with anyone
the oasis of your pleasure.

For now, let me witness
the beautiful moment when you break,
when control slips through your fingers,
when you finally, completely let go.

I've never seen anything more perfect
than your face in a moment of release,
nothing more honest than your voice
when breath stumbles across my name.

This is how I want to remember you:
undone, unguarded, uninhibited,
the version of yourself you show to no one else,
the truth beneath the composure.