The Unraveling…

I want to part your tender thighs
and use my tongue to drain
all the delicious chaos from my brain.

Each slow, deliberate stroke
a syllable whispered against your heat,
spelling out the only prayer I know.

Your hips rise like tides answering the moon,
and I am drowning willingly,
mouth full of your thunder,
tasting the storm you keep
locked behind those soft gates.

You unravel me
even as I unravel you,
my thoughts, once tangled and wild,
spilling out through my lips,
pouring into you,
until there is nothing left
but this holy, hungry silence,
and the shudder of your release
becomes my only clarity.