III. Descent

III. Descent

A column of sublime vulnerability, your throat rises only to fall. The tip of my tongue tracing over its gentle slope, reading each subtle movement as you swallow, as you whisper your dreams, as silence gathers like rain behind your lips.

Vibrations imbued with meaning, laughter ascending like incense. I follow the blessed path with reverent touch from hollow to shadow and finally the descent— a pilgrimage where I lose myself in fingertip prayers.