Unbuttoned Hours

You spoke, and the air remembered heat,
a trembling hymn, slow and sweet.
The space between us dared to bloom,
turning silence into a room.

Your gaze unbuttoned the hours between,
soft as a sin, sharp as a dream.
Time itself began to sway,
kneeling low where your breath lay.

Your touch rewrote what skin should mean,
a whispered prayer, half obscene.
My body bowed, my reason fled,
to every word your hunger said.

You said nothing—yet I heard,
a vow unspoken, still conferred.
I was not yours, but near the flame,
already burning on your name.