In this low permanence
I miss my desire —
The luxury of sin
That filled the void
Between pain and loss.
The blissful anaesthetic
of your mouth,
Always hungry
Bitter in its vulgarity
Unafraid.
In those moments
we were endless,
Aching into oblivion.
I don't care what you want
Just tell me,
Your secrets
Moaning sweet obscenities
in my ear.
I don't miss the feelings,
Your hand in mine.
Just those three little words.