SWEETHEART,

FOR SOME,
LOVE IS THE CURE.

AND

FOR SOME,
LOVE IS THE DISEASE.

I'd like to thank you
For tangling my limbs with yours
And leaving an ever lasting imprint
On my skin
With kisses of gold

there's a silence
in the hours
of the first stirring
between the breaking
of light through
brittle air
and the pale stretch
of shadow

you traced your own line
where the light dips
and pools in the hollow
of my collarbone
with the narrow tip
of a finger
i take a page
pure in the first fold
and open receptive

I am dying
To feel you crawl
Deep inside my veins
To pull them taunt
And play me a sweet melody
To smash my bones into powder
And place it under my nose
Inhale the mistakes and misgivings
I've brought upon myself
You,
Being the most important to me
The one that pulls me down
When I get too high
The one that keeps me manic
When I am too sane
The one that sleeps
With a gun
Against my tongue
To keep my words inside