I fucking miss you like I am drowning. I know I can’t survive in the water and yet I pray for you to pull me down into it.
Only your touch will do. Your eyes and your hands and your breath on my neck, your teeth in my flesh. I am grieving that which is still alive and it is maddening.
I’m sick with desire and know it is a drug. I’m convulsing without your cock to hold me steady. Daddy, what have we done? I cannot bear a world not in your arms and I’ve lit it all on fire, and, you’ve dowsed it in gasoline.
We wanted to see the fire but it’s too hot to keep us warm. A horror story unfolded in our hearts and we were both too afraid of our own shadows to confront the demons we cast out onto the walls, fingers pointed and warning shots fired.
I went to town to fetch water and they asked if the fire burned me, too. Of course, this is the nature of the fire. All consuming, bright, unable to be anything but the flame to my tongue, my lantern, my inferno. How could they expect any less?
I crave your burn. Spread me open and take me whole and leave nothing but the ash of these poor choices to rise out of. I feel your tug on my chest and the marrow in my bones reaches and reaches out, only pulling to that place between stars.
A number, a lover, another, it’s over...
It’s hard to mourn over your loss with no body to grieve.
May 5