Flooding Forges

Your lips feel like pulling leather
when I kiss you and bite down
into the scented pulp behind them,
your breath is mist behind waterfalls,
the calm washes over my face
but I will not stop to stare in awe,
my fingers are quicksilver in darkness,
feel them slip between your bends,
become iron that stokes your furnaces,
while I drink your defeated smiles,
quiver with your mouth on my ear,
feel hammers fall on red-hot steel
as my body shudders and every wave
reaches your shores, meets your fires
and extinguishes with loud hisses
and long sighs.

Image Source: Antoine de Villiers