Saturday, September 10, 2022

Bound

I needed to be bound, 
but not by the fragility 
of mere words,
but by the rapture 
in your eyes
and the strength 
of your embrace,
and the bruising of your
fingers gripping me
I wanted to die 
a thousand tiny deaths 
lost in your whispers 
and tasting your moans

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All the grief that swallows us whole is pooling over the edges and bleeding into everything; changing the shape of what it touches.