consequence
It wasn’t desire.
It was consequence.
A slow tilt in the room
and my body obeyed
before I knew.
Air pressed in close.
Pulse climbed.
Skin tight.
Breath fast.
Silence.
ㅤ
The line we never crossed
had already dissolved,
they said.
There was no action left to take.
No chance to step away,
they said.
Only surrender
to what was beginning.
Now.
They said.
A tremble running down your arm.
First, the wrist,
A touch,
A kiss.
A pulse rising higher
As if air had no space left
Silence holding us closer than breath
A finger tracing down your spine,
A fingertip upon your hip.
Holding,
As if that was all your body knew.
In closer now.
Heat rising till language
had nowhere to go
Your gaze inside under my skin,
Breath thinning.
A gasp as I catch your breath,
A kiss just to the left,
of your ear,
on your neck.
Breath stops being shared.
It becomes the same.
Silence breaks.
The same.
A breath along your jawline,
A pulse in the small of your back.
Silence breaks.
A crack.
You gasp.
You gasp again.
I catch that gaze in your eye
and feel undone from the inside.
The line we never crossed
doesn’t exist anymore.
The silence returns.
Heat remembers your shape.
Now.
ㅤ
For those who choose to go a little deeper
paid subscribers get
access to a Guided Noticing,
and occasional paid-only pieces,
Everything I publish publicly stays public.
This is about making space for slower work, and for people who want to stay close to how it’s made.
If you’ve been hovering, this is a good moment to step in.
I’m always open to thoughtful writing collaborations.
Other prose and poems from me.
Nothing truly leaves — it just changes how it stays.
If something moved in you — a silence that whispered — I’d love to hear it below, or in my DM’s.
All artwork courtesy of NDjin Gallery
Heat remembers your shape……..so good
I love this.