I'm a jack-of-all-trades
good at nothing
good for nothing
I've never learned how to swim
or play an instrument
I can't drive a car
or write anything well
or carve your name in the stars
where it deserves to be

and I've never created
a single thing I've felt proud of
but I can cheer you on
watch you swim laps
from the shallowest end of the pool
and get excited when you publish
your capital "L" Literature
I'll cover you in glitter
so you'll shine to the ends of the galaxy
then we'll watch how every star in the night sky
blinks your name in morse code

a single column around
my favourite part,
the inside of your wrists
I brush the fibers against porcelain
wanting to leave a mark
let me create a map of red lines
and bruises on your skin
this way I'll know where to
lightly caress or
run my tongue along or
dig my fingers into

breath you into me
and sync our breaths
slow and calm
I run the bight along your arms
tug it across your chest
it is meticulous as the rope runs tandem
and I go slow
savouring each ******* fold
over, under, through, tighter, harder

your smile commands me
so I ask you to beg
tell me you want it
I want to hear it
tell me you want me
of course I'll give in
we both know you're in charge

I maintain tension with the rope
it's a language I've become fluent in
I maintain tension through eye contact
though I pray you won't see through me
I maintain control
of myself and keep to the task at hand
wrapping you like a gift, like my gift

subspace is a land I've never been to
but I know the face you make
when you get there
your eyes flit and I can sense your arousal
our breathing quickens
as you contract against my lips
you are unbound and released
as I pull the rope tighter

I'll bind you free

first

find the most interesting, beautiful, and important part of your figure;
observe with fresh eyes, and new hands
until you can touch the figure in your mind

but

do not hold him just yet.

transform him to his most basic and essential qualities.
observe the way light plays against his skin, the darker shadows under his neck, the curve of his lips
the muscles along his arms and blood in his veins
holding your brush with care, start an outline

go slow at this stage

find a way to capture his gaze.
a gaze away could mean disinterest or distraction
an animated gaze forward means your figure is engaged

next

trace him with your brush
focusing on the base of his neck,
his broad, naked shoulders,
his back and the curves that connect to his thighs.

when you have an outline: wait

wait until you hear the pounding of your own heartbeat
paint the feeling of his hands against your hips
wait until you feel his lips brush up against
the base of your neck,
your slender, naked shoulders,
your back
your stomach
and lower

at this very moment, you feel yourself painted by him

you become a shade, a highlight, a smudge back into the canvas
and he pulls you in closer
until you both become one image

you watch him as he takes your paint brush away
you are naked and you do not remember if he painted
your clothing off with a brush of his own
or if you took them off yourself

such trivial detail is not essential to the big picture

this is when the real picture is painted
when you yourself become a series of circles and textures
and your body no longer feels real

you are two figures, ready to be painted

you capture this moment.

Your wicked tongue awoke
Between crooked teeth
And a scarred smile

An accent at the boom
Of your voice; could shatter
Cities of marble to sand

The plague you've sent
As we prayed for an end
And you took your throne

But this is love, isn't it?
You whispered to us all
Through an open palm

This was all there is
And all that ever will be
You are the omega

You've slayed and conquered
But like caped crusaders fallen
You were mortal all along

And I realize that now
Whelmed through life's storm
You, too, never knew love

Your eyes, golden brown
Soft, delicate fingers brushing a single curl
Against my cold face
"body heat helps frostbite,"
You tell me
And you lick your lips knowing
I am unconditionally doomed
In our paracosm you would be my wife
Bound by our losses and found by each other
In the unlit room, you're mine for just the hour
And maybe that's enough.

we'd fire automatics
against painted grey skies
and hold on to what we cherish
in 20 item inventories
we'd race the grand prix on ducati's
against time
and the cruel controller
with broken buttons

you'd always lose but
continued to play
until the very end
of the race over
the checkerboard
-finish-line-

looks like you got first place this time
and i'm still trailing in the dirt
and the dust
you've left

behind

i remember being little when the
fire of my eyes still shone bright
my fingertips green with the world at the edge
i thought that someday i’d grow tall
like the linden trees
i wanted to stand before
things greater
than my imagination
experience the world with every
spare hundred dollars in my pocket
and now my branches have overgrown
and i can never be uprooted
so i stand tall and watch the planes overhead
flying to islands with names
i can’t pronounce
and i dream of the days when i was little
and still caught fire in my reflection