Where Our Silence Warms

A naturist, I shed the day’s tight notes—  

My flesh unbinds as cello strings softly sway

The bath exhales a vapor-softened throat,  

Its liquid song dissolves the stress of day.

You breach my silence while my fingers play—

No words, just layers pooled where footsteps passed.  

The water hums a frequency unchained,  

Your back rests softly, knows my breasts are cast.

Your fingers trace my folds, our tones slowly grow—

A throbbing drone our mingled pores now greet.  

The soundscape swells where flesh begins to know

The crush of solitude our heat completes.  

The water cools, yet still our bodies own  

Two silences embraced by undertow.