and I have my own,
marks and stings
blossom across your flesh
in order to make a home.
A little more pain would make
the whole heart follow next,
veins would surge to the ghost note,
pauses amplifying the impact in between.
Mine always goes inward,
some dark quiet inverse
that would be a mirror to yours
if you could still peel beneath.
Our darkness would then know
exactly where to meet.
Where desire streams between us,
courses near a blazing unknown together,
tremulous breath saying more with an exhale
before we are encircled by a singular flame.
To know where one truly burns,
to continuously be wounded
but never enough to scar.
A little more pain would make
the whole heart follow next,
graze tissues more complex
than what lashes leave behind.
That’s where you would feel
all traces woven into me,
soft hands would meddle textures
accentuating hungry fierce irises.
One touch may unspool this darkness,
blossom across what you know
and find a home immersed in your flesh.
You have your lash ready,
collar secure and tightened
around your neck like a second skin.
My marks would never be seen
upon your tremulous bare form,
I shape emblems inside
that far outlast the sting.
I’ll never need an alias to know,
never need another key to find
exactly where our darkness meets
if you could still reach beneath.
A little more pain would make
the whole heart follow next.
