Wearing my words, she holdse far.
Fist aflame against her men,
as she stands in fingers and teeth
and ribs breaking skull.

But, oh...

How could less be more when
all that she has ever wanted
is writing this for her?

But oh...

If she only knew
all I've gone through,
skies of red,
and dreams of blue.

But oh...

In refrain like a sad song
that tears fall gently from,
is all that this boy has
for the night.

And so I beat my fists,
aflame,
on my pillow
praying my hair
catches fire.

Does she know the words hit
like a sudden explosion of colour,
blue, green, red.

I am curled in a mother's arms again,
feel like a child,
and my eyes well up.

No one has ever reached me
the way you did
with your such sweet
simple words.

Her words
bring me to earthquakes,
if I had held someone before
I no longer recall.

I am lain bare,
barely aware
of these binary borders
holding me back.

Her body curves like flowers,
I have bent backwards
on numbing fingertips,
and still she sits,
a spell
possessing my soul.

There are things I could tell you
about myself,
lesions awakened in a cloud of poppies,
burn the tracks and the bridge
that contained them,
only to realize
I was on the bridge.

You appeared
like a boat underneath
to rescue me,
but you being a ghost beneath,
only makes...

I'm falling asleep...

You are a dream,
But am I only dreaming you?

Feathers burst forth
seared with sunlight.
The coast is clear,
baby girl,
the waves are breaking
turquiose shores,
and my heart
is aching to consume you.

"And every time he woke up in the coldest sweat
Scrawled to the bone with her nails
was the promise that she wouldn't let go..." ~ "Momento Mori" by Antemasque*

I was dreaming
about you
and realized
I haven't dreamed
about her
in weeks.

Tied to furniture
in near-weeping posture:
lust can always bring you here,
carried in its spider-cradle arms,
eager for my marks
across your hidden spots.

I am your ***** little secret,
*****.

I have erased my name,
in shadows lurk,
behind barely closed curtains,
watched by Gideon Bibles,
hazed in blue television light,

your only sound,
barely abled gasps of,
"Yes, Daddy...please, Sir.
Yes, Daddy...hurt me more."

Tied down,
bruised,
bitten,
opened,
all your secrets revealed,

collapse
into the pool of *******,
muddle your words just enough
smile your bottom lip,
cutting against your teeth.

I have won the respect of the princess,
shown her the strength she has,
awoken her mind.

My reward is the ownership of her whorish body.