It hurts like a heart held in your hands
how mine rumbles, facing tension it cannot bare

  When, not if, it bursts, and gushes tender
I'm left no longer a living man

        I cry "gentle," and you squeeze
        your nails like fangs, the serpent
       from which I ask a relief

holes in my heart that I cannot mend

  limp, like the lying antelope as it surrenders
the lion's jaw, thick in the firm of his neck

  so, you've cornered me in feelings,
with your kisses as your canines, I–

unwillingly accept