And you’re sweet to me;
You drag fingers all over me;
Make me scream so filthily
While we’re on the floor.
So the triggers taut (sigh)
The ire of a heart pulled out—
I can’t help but breathe in,
And breathe out, thinking of you.
The twisted vise of body we made;
Say I’m sorry, it didn’t last,
But I’m happy you came.
“You can’t reconcile all our differences in verse”
She’d say with pursed lips—yawn—a tragedy of words
Against skulls, lips and palms,
In two held hands, a roof of mouth
To smother a scream.
So pretty you are between my teeth
So treasonous (yawn)—far worse
Than I could have ever written it to be.