Makitia Thompson Poet Narrative

And So We Collide

There is a moment
when skin meets skin
and the world shifts
without warning.
It is neither wholly sin nor wholly salvation,
only the tremor of bodies
recognizing something divine
in the other’s touch.

The air thickens
with heat and hesitation,
and I feel the pulse
of something older than shame
coursing through my veins.
It is holy in its recklessness,
sacred in its surrender,
and it frightens me
because I know I cannot name it
without trembling.

Every brush of fingers
feels like a prayer
that has slipped its way past
the lips it was meant for,
and every gasp
echoes the hymns
I was taught to whisper
when no one could hear.

I want to pull back,
to cloak myself in rules
and commandments,
to remind my body
that devotion is not found
in the fire of desire.
But something in me leans forward,
pressing against restraint,
pressing into the pulse
that tells me this collision
was always inevitable.

And so we collide-
not with intention,
not with cruelty,
but with the quiet force
of two truths
meeting at the edge of breath.
The sacred and the sensual
do not ask permission,
they do not negotiate,
they simply touch,
and I am left
to reckon with the tremor
long after
the bodies have parted.

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Justin Bordner December 19, 2025 at 6:57 PM There is a boldness that only wise beauty knows, an aesthetic that assails convention with a conviction of love justice, that jurisprudence of passion, which commands cause and tempers judgement into fair forensic foresight, when the stars are jury verdict ventures forth from virtue...You are a special Writer Poetess...Justin