kiss me

Bee-stung lips
red with desire
shaming the rose
the aurora
the briar
because this must be a fairy tale

Run to the woods to find a page of a
story written for only two
Semantics from a stranger
words from forever ago
harbored in the heart of
distant jagged ice
slicing through the sky

Tangled in sentences and
breathing ellipses against…silk
on which rests the mind of a
puzzle with no pieces
a work of art with no paint
Defiant and singular

Not close enough
Can’t get close enough

Slip the cloak down over the shoulder
Cherish the skin that burns to the touch
leaving a trail of frost-bitten kisses
that will never heal
Ravage this system
with kinetic venom
Inject it slowly
through tongue, through teeth
and claw marks on a back
so weary from burden

Make a map
Down, down, across, and follow it to

Be sated and be cleansed
but gods, don’t let go
Can’t stop touching
that groove
that indentation
that shallow in which resides
a pulse for which death is consented

Swing and rip at the waves
dark and falling over ocean eyes
No direction, aimless, clueless
Wandering but not lost

The needle compass pierces through
titanium and conviction
A life consigned to sorrow
pointed with quill and sealed with wax

Warmth in veins for the first time
is it true?
Can that be right?
The blood replaced
when satin fingers reached into the black
and pulled out a rusted pendant
It used to mean something
it used to shine
Buried beneath miles of
ignorant currents and rapids of denial
because it’s always easier
to bar the door and think
that will keep the monster from
coming through

Touch, like prayer
Gaze, like worship
So beautiful
So, so beautiful

And mine.


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