My Heart Does Not Do Casual

Do not come to me

with half-lit desire

and call it love.

We cannot date casually,

nor undress without consequence.

There is nothing casual

about entering my darkness

and being trusted with the flame.

My space is sacred

cathedral built from scars,

longing, and loyalty.

If I invite you inside,

it means something.

I do not entertain

half-hearted ghosts

or intentions too shallow

to survive the night.

I am deliberate.

Passionate.

Devoted beyond reason.

My intimacy is not a pastime.

It is a vow whispered against your skin,

a beautiful haunting,

a commitment written in blood.

My heart does not know

how to love casually.

It arrives entirely

or it does not arrive at all.