I think about the way I would hold you
If you were with me at night
The gentle way my hands would fold themselves
Across your hips
And the soft canvas of your skin
Brushing against the drying paint of mine
The way my hands would fall into the grooves
Of your collarbone
Like snow falling on tree branches
My fingers like snowflakes fluttering down
On your neck
And how I’d carefully cover your mouth with my palm
So no one would hear your screams
As I throttled you until your neck snapped