We cut the night

This neon pulse is a rhythmic blur

A fevered hum of light and skin

But in this crowded, restless stir

I feel the fire you hold within

Your gaze is heavy, dark, and deep

A silent promise, sharp and slow

Of secrets we are meant to keep

When midnight’s embers finally glow

The music curls around our waists

A tether pulling soul to soul

While every breath between us tastes

Of heat we can no longer control

The floor is ours, the world is gone

Just the pressure of your palm on mine

A prelude to the coming dawn

A vintage thrum of blood and wine

We cut the night with hungry eyes

Each touch a match, a quiet flame

Until the city’s hollow sighs

Are replaced by the whisper of your name

© 2026 Mel Gutiér