It's midnight. Dark room. Silence. The hour of lovemaking has passed. But it still lives in him, so he stirs. He asks for nothing. His blood rages. No woman readies herself for that moment. The curves of her body do not lie still. Their passion, though hidden, screams like this— ...until even the marrow of bone trembles! In this burning silence, when each moment is unexploded ordnance, two hearts resurrect themselves again and again. In this hour, for so many others, irresistible.
# Irresistible I cannot help myself— the way your name arrives like weather, unbidden, breaking open the careful architecture of my ordinary days. I resist nothing anymore. Not the thought of you at dawn when light catches the edge of things, not the small ache that blooms whenever a song plays that might have been written for us. You are the argument I lose before I've even begun. The question that answers itself. I could build walls— I've tried. They crumble at the mere rumor of your voice, at the ghost of your laughter still haunting the rooms where we never quite met. This is not surrender. It is recognition. The way a river knows it will find the sea, the way light knows its business with shadow. I am undone by the simplicity of it: that you exist, that I exist, and between us, this irreversible pull— gravity wearing the face of desire, necessity dressed in the skin of choice.
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