originally, I just wanted to *******. there
was something so appealing
about the thought of you,
on hands and knees,
completely at my mercy.
after a while, however, I found myself
on my own hands and knees, and it is not a position I have ever liked being in.
I got greedy, instead of asking
to *******, I'd ask to love you
and instead of imagining us tangled up together singing in vowels,
I'd listen to my own heartbeat
chanting love songs inside its cage.
Whatever poison you soaked your tongue in has ravaged my mind and replaced every important piece with your face
and now i can't even go to my favourite places or read my favourite poems,
without thinking of you.
I never knew how good I was at begging
until I was kneeling in front of my God pleading to let you stay in my life and telling him about how often I fantasise about
your lips crashing against mine.
this tastes like a new type of euphoria and it's one that requires no touch,
and oh how I hope it's eternal.