In the hush between heartbeats,
your breath catches—
not from surprise,
but from the way she looks at you
like a promise already broken.
One shoulder bare,
silk sliding like dusk over curves
you've tasted in dreams,
she leans back—lazy, lethal—
fingers curled at your collar,
pulling you into the orbit
of her smirk.
She wears defiance
like perfume—
middle finger raised,
but it's not rebellion.
It's a dare.
A whisper that knows
you'll crawl
if she crooks that finger just right.
Lips parted,
cheeks flushed with wicked want,
she watches you burn
as her thigh—bare, warm—
slides over yours,
locking you in
with all the grace of a velvet trap.
The room sweats amber,
shadows wrapping like tongues around the walls,
and still—
she denies you,
not out of cruelty,
but to watch you unravel.
Because she knows.
Knows that when the time comes,
when her voice drops low and says now,
you'll give her
everything.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem