Whispers That Silence My Demons

I love you, not for the way you dance with my angels,

not for the light you bring when the sun is high,

but for the way your voice, in sultry echoes,

makes my shadows sigh, makes my demons lie—

still beneath the hush of your whispered lullaby.

Your breath is a spell, a wicked, soft promise,

woven in midnight, in silk and sin,

pulling me under, drowning me deeper,

wrapped in the heat of your touch on my skin.

Fingers trace lines where secrets are written,

lips press verses that tremble and tease,

moans drip honey, slow and forbidden,

melting between every space in between.

I lose myself in the dark of your wanting,

your name is a prayer I cry in the night,

hips in rhythm, bodies colliding,

love like a fire that burns without light.

But it’s not just the way you make me surrender,

not just the way our bodies entwine,

it’s the way your voice, in hushed incantations,

commands the madness that lingers in mine.

You don’t just kiss me—you calm the storm,

you don’t just touch me—you tear me apart,

you don’t just love me—you own the war,

that rages deep within my heart.

So take me again, with words and whispers,

with hands that promise, with lips that plead,

not just for pleasure, but for salvation,

for only you give me what I need.