My pulse

My desire unfurls,

a trembling vine along your pulsing veins.

Open your secret gate, beloved—

let it surge within,

a drunken nectar spilling

over embers where I burn,

spreading wildfire across your paradise earth.

My hands, immortal,

circle your pomegranate breasts;

writhe, my love,

become a flame of pure longing.

O beloved,

take my risen form of hunger

into your tender grasp—

sweeten ecstasy,

do not delay.

On the tip of your tongue

my thirst quivers;

feed me honey, drive me mad.

O beloved, O beloved,

I ascend

in the molten spill of passion,

melting, vanishing,

becoming nothing but you.