I swallowed you whole and you stomped on my toes,
finding your place in my bones,
and snapping my femur.

You were predator, but I turned you parasite.
No dark thing of the night,
cause see, I knew better.

I wanted the spills and the rage
just so I could slash that pretty, polished page    
with something grander.

And as you climbed my frame with switchblade paws,
wrapped your sickly tail around my delicate drawers,
and clenched my tongue with a flickering finger,
I caught fire.

My lips burned black, smoke stained my dress,
while I put forth a shaky “yes”,


not that you inquired.