AlanaMoore

Your eyes touch my silence, and suddenly the world becomes skin. Nothing exists, except this chill that learns to breathe your name.

Under the light, I hide the shadow, the one that burns gently. Approach quietly. fire knows its destiny.

On my skin, the perfume of secret, on my lips, the promise of vertigo. If you knew everything I say, you'd never sleep peacefully again.

I don’t say anything, I let my gestures speak. Silence has its words, and I know them all.

In my dreams, you have no name, only a heat, a trace. It's not you I'm looking for, it's the vertigo you leave.

Your thoughts hold me tighter than any embrace. Being your idea is enough for me, as long as it is ardent.

I like the moment before the gesture, the breath before the word. This is where desire is born, and it never dies.

Time glides on my skin like an impatient memory. Every minute becomes caress, every second, promise.

I dream half, not to lose you completely. In the dark, your absence tastes like unfinished pleasure.