The Poem I Shouldn’t Be Writing but always do—about you

 

The Poem I Shouldn’t Be Writing

but always do—about you

You—

the one I tried to forget,

but kept finding in flickers

of moonlight and metaphor.

You move like temptation follows,

like your breath carries a vow

you haven’t dared speak aloud.

Your voice drips with velvet sin,

your glance—

it writes across my skin.

And I’ve etched you

into hidden verses

long before you ever looked my way.

Two clicks.

Two years.

Too many nights

haunted by the thought

of how you’d fit

where only my longing ever dared go.

You’ll never know

how often I’ve felt

your weight—imagined,

your heat—summoned,

your name—almost spoken.

You said you’d hold me to it.

I dare you to try.

I’ll fold like a whispered charm,

rise like a forbidden line,

and turn every soft sound

into a moan

that was always only meant for you.