the most accurate descriptions of how i feel about you
are disturbing at best
i want to crawl inside your skin
is the phrase that most often comes to mind.
never close enough, sticking skins pressed together
shins to calves chest to back
arms twisting and knotted around you
and i keep shifting in place because i don't have enough body to cover you with.
it's infrequently ****** but when it is i crave anatomy i lack,
and spit-slick tongue, rubbery silicon hardly begin to satisfy
my need to exist in the same space you occupy.
scientific law states that two objects cannot exist in the same space at the same time but you inspire a devotion to prove that wrong.
and those times you're above me limbs entangled unsure where one of us ends and the other begins
the litany of closer is silenced but the hunger for your flesh still craves,
not moving not giving enough for comfort or pleasure and the satisfaction never lasts.
in my love there is a constant undercurrent of unnerving devotion
passion and fury and not-yet violence streaked through with thrilling mania
i'd **** for you
another of those too-common phrases;
but i would.
there is a current of violence under my skin, my love,
and the idea of you being hurt brings to mind images of gore
and grit and rending of limbs from those who have harmed you.
i share my skin with a part-time psychopath
and you are the pivotal point, the focus
just tell me where to aim.