girl,
with an accent of blood
a foreign tongue
vowels that sound of metal clashing
warrior,
with fire flowing through her veins
armor for skin
feet that crush the earth beneath her
immortal,
with electricity streaks through her hair
iron filled lungs
each breath invitingly toxic
princess,
with lips of silk
a voice cut from steel
thunder and war in her bones
heroine,
with a grin made for battle
eyes speckled in ash
striding, powerful into the arms of death.

i am always carrying your name under my tongue, in that small place under my tongue and i don’t think i’m ready yet to loosen my lips and let you slip out and leave me forever because thats a scary thought, thats a **** scary thought. I’d be more comfortable cutting off my own arm or going blind or being spat into the middle of the ocean because that’s just physical, that means nothing, i have another arm, and i have my memories, and i could probably swim enough to reach some kind of island or strip of land  or even just let nature take control and pull me into the arms of the big blue babe and she’d kiss me and show me her shiny shells and dead bones of fish collected in piles on the floor and i’d live down there forever and i would crawl out of my weight and leave it in a collected pile on the floor and i’d float through the air and i’d breathe deeply full of water and i’d be water and she’d be water and we’d be water and it wouldn't matter if i love you or if i’m just afraid because i’d be water and you’d be bones and blood and brains and i’d just be water, and you can’t confuse water with anything else but water but bones and blood and brains are messy and thick and runny and easily confused with things like spaghetti and red paint and death and i want to be water. clear and unmistakable.
but i’m not water, i am also bones, and i am blood, and i am brains, and i’m not one bit clear.

I can’t stop thinking of lips,
Glossy, pouty and luscious,
A tongue that twirls, darts and dips,
Sensing a sense so precious.

No feeling exceeds kissing,
More than any sense of touch,
If lips on mine went missing,
I’d miss nothing else so much.

Dreaming of red lips on mine,
With a tickling tongue atrill,
Feather soft tongue’s tip so fine,
I cannot hold my heart still.

Use a tongue to enter me,
Grab my face to *******,
Taste as sweet as sweet can be,
Kissing’s where my love comes from.

It’s on the tip of my tongue,
I know it I swear, the words aren’t missing,
they’re just not there, on the tip of my tongue,
I believe I know where,
I'll find them in the dark skies or in my blank stare.
Please send up a light or some kind of flare,
end this cycle of searching,
searching for what is rare.

Words that I’ll be searching for for a while,
Surprised that I’m locked in, like juvenile,

I’ll be Stuck in a constant rewind,
until we've left this topic behind.
Then I'll remember and say remember that time,

Eventually, Ill be able to speak effortlessly again
of course it'll happen after this conversation ends.

I want you heart and soul and body and tongue