INSATIABLE

I am not a linguist, but I speak the language of your body almost fluently. No words, just hands, our bodies, and melted faces against the other. The thoughts of you consume me, my being, leaving its heat in the mine of my shell, but I only speak when your lips are on mine. A silent conversation of the intertwined bodies of two, but with purpose. I lose myself in the lines of your body, carved on Mount Olympus, by Zeus himself. To drown in the oceans of mutual desire. This is our language, understood in the blanket of the night, yet, I see you clearer than I ever have. It is the fire, and baby, it burns insatiably…

— Tolú