Nectar

His tongue, a hummingbird seeking nectar,
dips into the honeyed well of me,
tracing the delicate folds of silk
where desire pools like morning dew.

He feasts as though I am his last meal,
savoring each trembling note I sing,
drowning willingly in my ocean,
drinking deep from my sacred spring.

Waves crash through me, relentless tides
that pull me un…