if i showed you my skin
would you slit my naked throat
and let me bleed
till i was pale
and soft
and accomplished
and whole?
or would you hold me
in your sacred arms
in this knowing
we pretend is there
so that you stay?
would you scratch down
every word i uttered
from my lips
that sound like
the way they still taste:
like you?
would you let me die
in thought,
dazed by the beauty of your eyes
as you stare into mine;
i won’t notice your hands
quietly wrapped around my neck,
putting me down peacefully
and telling me
it’s okay?

or

would you let me sit with you
in silence
and know that
we don’t know,
but this moment
is quiet
and pure
and good?
and things
will be
okay.