There are mirrors
and then there is you—
arched in light,
dripping in want,
your body unfolding
like a secret
I get to tell
again and again.

We fuck
where the walls
can’t look away.
Every angle of us—
visible,
honest,
magnified.
Your eyes locked on mine
through the glass,
while your mouth
utters things
meant only
for the dark.

You ride me
like you want to be seen.
Like you want to watch
yourself come undone.
And I let you.
God, I let you.

I see the way
you study the rise of your hips,
the rhythm,
the chaos,
the elegance of need
performed in silver.

The mirror tells no lies—
it shows every grip,
every tremble,
every mark I leave
when I lose myself
in the way you look
when you’re finally
free.

And when we finish,
we stay there,
watching our ruin,
watching our love
as it smolders
in the quiet
reflection
of who we really are
when no one’s pretending.