They like it best
with dark, quiet rooms
when my breath fills the air
and the ceiling cries

I like it best with your hand in mine
the thought of your lips
and teeth and hands
your warmth
and hands
the sound of your breathing
the colors and lights
that brighten the sky
and hands

They like it best
when she screams and cries
and I watch as
they cut off her
hands
and I felt the pain, too