"The Study of Her"
The Student:
She taught like a blade hidden in silk,
each word slicing softly
a dangerous elegance.
I watched her mouth more than her message,
memorized the slope of her lips
rather than the slope of the curve.
My thoughts drowned in the pool of her intelligence,
but it was her gaze
that unbearable, slow drag of her eyes
down my collarbone
that made me forget to breathe.
I stayed after class.
Excuse on my tongue,
truth bleeding beneath.
She stood too close.
Pages between us, but
the heat was unreal.
I dropped my pen.
She picked it up.
Our fingers brushed
and it felt like a dare.
A declaration.
Her voice low:
"You're either reckless or brilliant."
I smiled. "Both."
She leaned in. "Prove it."
And I did
by not moving when she stepped into me.
By closing my eyes when her breath found my cheek.
By standing still
when her fingers finally
pressed into the back of my neck
like a promise
and not a threat.
The Teacher:
She was not just a student
She was curiosity carved into skin,
eager, trembling, deliciously bold.
I saw how she looked at me
like I was the equation she could never solve,
but longed to.
I fed her small answers,
slow smiles,
unfair glances
that turned her pages red.
She didn't know I watched her long before.
Saw her mouth the words I whispered in lecture
softly, unknowingly,
like an invocation.
She'd squirm under the weight of my stare
yet never run
and that,
that delighted me.
She didn't drop the pen by accident.
I didn't return it innocently.
When I touched her neck,
I felt the chaos pulse
sheer, delightful ruin
waiting for my hand to conduct it.
So I kissed her.
Tongue, lips, mind
all in.
She moaned into me,
and I swallowed it
like the beginning of sin.
My hands guided hers to my waist,
then lower.
Her breath caught
but she didn't stop.
I undressed her with precision,
not clumsy lust
but like a thesis.
A paper to be studied.
She came undone like a poem
and I read every line.
She clutched my blouse
as if it were her only theory.
And when we collapsed into each other
it wasn't surrender.
It was war disguised as softness.
I didn't just want her.
I wanted her completely
obsessively.
And she will return tomorrow.
They always do.
But she
she will come with deeper hunger,
and I will feed it.
Brilliant girls always burn best.