Whispers Of A Sexual Fling

Whispers Of A Sexual Fling

Whispers of a sexual fling,

move between each look we share,

soft and low and full of tension,

settling slowly in the air.

We both feel it in the silence,

in the pause before we speak,

in the way our calm is breaking,

in the strength beneath the weak.

There is danger in your laughter,

something hidden, something near,

like a truth we are avoiding,

yet we both can almost hear.

I can feel the line between us,

thin as breath and hard to hold,

one small step would change the moment,

one small move would break control.

No forever waits behind this,

no safe ending we can trust,

just the heat of something reckless,

just the pull of want and lust.

Still we linger in the maybe,

in the space where choices stay,

neither turning from the fire,

neither walking clean away.

Your eyes ask without asking,

mine respond without defence,

and the air grows thick between us,

heavy with consequence.

Whispers of a sexual fling,

never loud, but always there,

like a memory in the making,

like a risk we choose to dare.

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