You take me slow,
like a prayer unfolding,
like the hush before the storm.
Your mouth—
I am a temple where you kneel,
where I take your every breath,
every thought,
until I am nothing but devotion
pressed against your lips.

You pull me deeper,
draw me past the borders of myself,
until I spill into you,
until I am unmade,
a river emptied into the sea.

And when I am gone,
when you have taken all of me,
when I am nothing but tremor and breath,
I do not ask for mercy.
I do not beg for return.

I only ask to drown again,
to be swallowed whole,
to live forever in the pool of your love.