Cloven coffee-
today the butte was shrouded in fog,
and my body was woke
so that I wanted to beg for it.
But I won't.

I can't live without the torture,
can't survive without the taste of blood.

I will be a bride to the indelible stickiness,
a lover to that which blooms.

Hold me, hold me, hold me.
I am shaken.