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tïrïngõ Feb 2018
I

       It starts out harder than you expect
but nothing can exist without an edge to plunge from
  and green is the night’s caviar

II

softer and softer you become
I can smell your quivering silence from a mile away
  I can taste you, on the very back of my tongue

III

strands lay languid and slow, linger featherlight upon your
length, soft enough to be invisible
and I brush them aside one by one
   and I covet mine hands, so much closer to thee
than the rest of me

IV

you are not perfect, far from it
every curve curdles with different curve
   and you are evenly spotted
how can I love you?


  I promise to.


sweet to taste, I taste with my eyes first
then by my hands, fouled by past lives forgotten
then by my ears, I can hear you shriek
with unworldly smile
your scent fills the flesh around my gnashing teeth
and finally, finally
I have you!
you seep lazy and warm down my chin
tumble like white water down my aching gullet
your soul weeps wearily upon my own
satiate burning desert of my desire
as I take you in
time and time again

but even after I am done with you
have discarded you, you are no use to me
anymore
somehow you are stronger
in the industry of resurrection, you become
as unyielding as iron, enough to break the hands that
once broke you, after loving you
how strange you are, creature
Hypnos, you have been cheated!
Thanatos, retreat! O Death, be not proud!
For she is living while asleep
and her laughter echoes off the edge of the world
and her spirit plunges into a salted Eden
*Written as a response to the process of eating a good ear of corn, but realizing it is so much grander than it's own consumption

— The End —