Slowly, feather-light
I circle my fingertips
down the canvas of your back
like a painter.
...
I dont want to be flesh
I want to be sky again
I dont want to be skin and bone
and teeth and eyes
...
I could stay inside you all day
and never venture out
ignoring the rain tapping on the window
as I splash about in your puddles
...
Ex
We meet
late at night
when the space
both inside
and outside of us
is at its blackest
to tear into each others flesh
like wild hounds
with a violent urgency
as if the answers we need
to save our souls
lay beneath
either her skin or mine
teeth, nails
sinking into one another
we take our revenge out
on each others bodies
for the lives we must lead
in our own
desperately merging
frantically trying to lose ourselves
in one another
if only for a fleeting moment
of timelessness, thoughtlessness
and then we're back
in the world
on your bed, on your sofa
and your nail-marks
down my back
arent painful enough
to divert my mind
from what my life is.