From black to thinning darkness brings
a golden fire,
a ring of brightness amidst the grey,
unhinged jaws,
iridescence.
I grow and grow, unlike tree, unlike living beast,
like a mountain, cold and unmoving.
I rumble like a volcano, a laugh to rival the Gods'.
They make creation,
I make destruction.
I form chaos with my claws, rip richness from earth,
from open graves, from open ribs.
I drink the body's wine, dripping from lips, sizzling on skin.
Smoke rises, obscures slitted eyes.
Serpens, adored;
a symbol.
Emblazoned, glittering,
golden against the silken sky of night.
Out from thinning black, the light of the sun.

You don't see me.
You never see.
I do.
My eyes roam your curves,
fingers reaching,
never quite touching.
I wax poetic about your lips,
your tongue as it sweeps pink skin.
You see me then.
You know, and you tease,
rough leather around my throat.
You purr in my ear, and it echoes.
I still think about you,
constantly.
I miss you,
ache for you.
My eyes seek you out from miles away.
But do you remember me?
Do you see me?
Because I seek you out.
Because I see you.

I died for you many times,
blood spilled on more than one occasion.
I could list the times you stole my breath.
With your fingers in my hair, tangled,
I hated my curls.
You called me dearest.
Did you mean it?
You invited me in.
Did she want it?
I was cold. You were warm.
Did you feel it?
In the frost-bitten autumn, lips turning blue
from the cold,
from your kisses,
there was blood on the grass,
shrapnel in your heart.
You worry me.
You don't sleep.
Ink stains your hands like
mud from the battlefield.
It stains your soul,
hides your desires,
murky as the dangerous sea.
Sometimes when you kiss me
it tastes like salt water,
feels like lightning,
gale force winds.
I am not a hurricane.
I could never hurt you.
But I did.
My breath stopped in my lungs,
eyes fixed on yours.
My breath stopped in my lungs,
your hands traveling.
My breath stopped in my lungs,
a bullet in his side.
My breath stopped in my lungs,
the world changed forever.
My breath stopped in my lungs,
you walking away from me, to her.
My breath stopped forever.
You wish my blood would stain your hands,
that you could have been close enough,
that you could have protected the part of yourself that resided in me.
Your breath stopped in your lungs.
I died for you, one final time,
blood spilled on one final occasion.
They stole my breath.
I hated my curls,
but I loved you.

If you gave me your heart like I gave you mine
I would gently close my fingers
around pulsing muscle
I would clench my jaw
I would close my eyes
and I would squeeze
until it ruptured in my hand
the warmth of your blood reminding me
just how love feels

Burn his sigil
into soft flesh
of wrist or
maybe
of throat
to set free
the music
from the
Soul