make my mind moan

his curiosity calibrated my breath... 
his patience dissolved my guard - 
he didn’t touch me, 
he taught me.  

the way he moved his bishop across the board brushed my silhouette.
his strategy felt like intuition -  
patient, 
precise, 
and innately aware of everything left unsaid. 
 
he asked questions like someone discovering sacred writings for the first time. 
not for the sport of it, 
and not to impress... 
but to witness, 
to unravel...
to reveal.
 
there’s something sacred about receiving a deep mind massage.  
it's not just pressure -
it stimulates circulation, 
it increases suppleness,
it releases tension...
 
make my moan and circle back to a though left open two weeks ago -
annotate my margins like you’re realigning chakras. 
let your theories linger like incenses curling inside the inner sanctuaries of my mind.  
 
desire lives in tone, 
and in tension -  
desire lives in the research of time and theories at 3 a.m. with an aroma of hot tea. 
 
intimacy is intellectual, 
it's emotional, 
it's intergalactic  
where ideas kiss at intersections 
and eye contact finishes sentences before words do. 

call it theory if you like: 
curiosity as method, 
patience as praxis, 
awareness as rite.  

beyond flirtation and into invocation -  
a patient and intentional exploration of knowledge, 
where desire and discipline shared the same breath.  

when his voice doesn’t rise, 
but my pulse does. 
not because he pursued me, 
but because he perceived me. 
not domination, 
but divine alignment. 

a question worth spreading open.  
a frequency worth tuning into -  
proverbs pressed into the skin of thought. 

some minds don’t just make you moan… 
they leave you swollen with knowing. 
full-  
from the inside out.  
 
they imprint memories that throb each time you remember what was revealed. 
 
thoughts that echo through silence long after the conversation ends. 
 
some minds don’t just arouse you — 
they awaken you. 

until the next thought,  

- nik

© 2025 NiKii Watson. All rights reserved.