I crave to stain your lips with my name
Easing every syllable, vowel, and consonant across your tongue
Excavating into the base of your throat
Edging through your lungs
Becoming your every breath and sigh alike.

I desire to drip my mind down your back
Lacing every thought I can through the notches of your spine
Allowing ideas to glide across tranquil shoulder blades
Enable my intellect to become your most sumptuous support system.

I necessitate tracing my soul across your collarbone
Purr my subconscious into the deepest crevices of your chest
Inspire my pneuma up and down your incomparable neck.

I can make you feel meaningful again,
Touch me so I don't feel so empty anymore.

I know of a place,
where it only rains ash.
The sun doesn't shine,
it was swallowed en masse.
By an ominous void,
that's now stifled the grass.
I'm loathe to return,
but I'll lead you if asked.

We'll journey on over,
to death's little home.
Where graves fill the fields,
in neat little rows.
Not a songbird in sight,
just cackling crows.
Nor will flowers you see,
where the bone roses grow.

A little aloof I shall stay
Before another tempest hits the bay
Anchoring me down again
Into surplus societal pain

Sharing the ocean can get rough
Absconding high tides is tough
I need to gather myself in vain
Before I crash once again

So I shall breathe, smile and have a good time
And hold on to things that are mine
Whilst I cover up the timeworn stain
And soak my wrath in the rain!

-Zainab Attari