Her Secret

She is consumed by passion that shouldn't be

Tearing her apart little by little from inside out

Relinquishing her control she twists, she bends, she spirals

Toward the fire that engulfs her very essence

And endlessly steals away pieces of her

Always leaving enough to launch into the vicious repetition

That is the accord they bound in

Trying to keep the immense pressure of her desire suppressed, quelled, subdued

She is consumed by passion that burns like acid

Slowly melting away everything that is she

Until all that remains is the vigor, the frenzy, the fury

That pounds at the doors of her restraint

Threatening to splinter her resolve

And erupt from her soul in a violent burst of undulation

Sweeping away the world around her

Leaving only the yearning to see him, to hear him, to savor him

She is consumed by passion that can't be smothered

Whose force is to strong for her to war against

Constantly losing her resolution, her volition, her will

Because the immensity of this searing intimacy

Though it stabs into her with corruption and shame

Fills her with such an overwhelming celestial adulation

That she permits to swallow her very existence

Because there is no other; it is transformative, it is divine, it is profound.