I’m not going to

I’m not going to say much tonight.

I’m not going to say:

—This —I’ll point at us— this palpable desire between us is the source of creation.

I’m not going to mention:

—Desire is a translation of love and vice versa —I’ll bite your shoulder—. One cannot exist without the other.

I’m not going to talk about how...

—I keep searching through the folds of my brain —I’ll lick your neck and you’ll laugh because it tickles— for something that exists nowhere except within your skin.

I’m not going to confess:

—I desire more than your touch or your presence —I’ll give you a kiss—. I desire the words that come out of your mouth when it’s just you and me, I desire your instructions —I’ll run my tongue across your teeth—. I want to place myself in your hands, I want you to take charge of every particle of me and learn everything that exists beyond the limits of my form.

I’m not going to explain:

—I don’t know how to desire without loving because I don’t know how to calm the tide —I’ll wrap my whole body around you, my arms around your neck, my legs at your waist—; the one that rises from my lungs as I try to swim toward your hands once more —I’ll search the depths of your throat, tasting your broken breath.

And I’m not going to say that my heart only understands devotion.

I will climb on top of you.

I will let myself be consumed.

—A sacred promise, total voluntary surrender.

Photography by Zhao Rong Tan