like lightning held in the mouth

i wanted you like protest wants fire.
like the moon wants the ocean to rise.
not just want, but a war chant in the lungs,
a shaking in the bones that says,
“this—this—is where i burn.”

you walked in and the room bent toward you
like petals lean for sun,
like gravity rewrote her laws to bless your shadow.
and me, soft like revolution,
thirsty like soil after drought,
i felt your glance like a match feels sulfur.

tell me,
is it lust if it feels holy?
is it wrong to crave the miracle
of your mouth spelling my name like scripture?

i’m not talking about sex—
i’m talking about that aching before—
that slow, magnetic pull
when two bodies haven’t touched
but every atom already has.

you are temptation in a minor key.
a spell whispered in the language of skin.
and i—i would unmake myself
just to be remade by your hunger.