Pleasure Principle
by Crissy Bliss Addams
I am the Sun.
When I crave, I erupt—
sunspots of lust tearing through me.
I throb with need—
slick, savage, starving.
I don’t just want you.
I want to etch your moans
into the fabric of spacetime.
I am the Sun.
When I want, I scorch.
Your absence is agony.
My skin howls for your heat.
I don’t crave softly.
I burn.
I blaze.
I make the constellations tremble
as I take you apart.
I am the Sun.
When I ache, I collapse—
a black hole of hunger,
warping time,
dragging you in.
I want you screaming in orbit,
caught in my gravity,
ripped from reason.
I don’t just burn for you—
I bend the universe
to taste you again.
Cosmic Seduction
by Crissy Bliss Addams
I am the Sun.
When I want, I flare—
violent, naked, solar.
I ache like a star
on the edge of collapse,
my gravity begging
to pull you in.
I am not soft.
I am slick with hunger,
primed to consume.
I want your orbit wrecked,
your breath stolen,
your body trembling
in my heat.
I don’t crave—I consume.
I want to taste you
until gravity breaks.
Let me orbit your pulse,
tongue tracing constellations
only I can name.
Let me hear you collapse
into pleasure—
a supernova
on my lips.
I don’t crave—I devour.
I want to make the constellations
forget their names
As they observe me take you.
Let me eclipse your reason,
split you open
like light through a prism.
Let me swallow you whole
and spit you out
reborn in my fire.
