Your Green Fingers

The worth of a gardener

I want to let you

garden my heart

To let your hands

into the quiet soil of me

where desire grows

wild and untamed

where every secret pulse

beneath my skin waits

for the warmth of your touch

You move through

me slowly

patiently

the way a careful gardener

tends something rare

Your fingers trace

gentle paths along my body

awakening every hidden place

that has been waiting for you

like sunlight

And suddenly

my breath deepens

my pulse quickens

my body leaning closer

without permission

Because when you

touch me like that…

it feels less like temptation

and more like cultivation

As if every soft kiss

every lingering brush

of your lips

is planting something dangerous

and beautiful inside me