My favourite thing about her was the way her lips felt as I tried to inhale them in my desperation. A hard case with a fluid base, caramel cravings in every kiss. She was nothing to me in her image. Bizarre to the eyes and even more deluding in her speech; she spun circles around me with her words until every verb was a trip wire. But she never lay out her strong arms for me to fall in to - instead they led me forcefully into that darkness with her, pulling me by the strings straight through the solid danger of her heart’s abyss. I arose the other side gasping but breathing. I wiped my limbs clean and wept from the burns of her bleach. She cased me in her imperfection and I stung with each touch for though I was far from pure her vitriolic embrace corroded me beyond recognition. No matter of the strength of the chemical’s cleansing my skin glowed to her name, it smiled into the sun with every interjection of memory caused by cancerous E vitamins and dishonest confessions that sept through my membrane ever since I was blessed enough to observe her.
Her eyes bled ice. She had a habit of starring into the sun and one day I caught a comet within her gaze. It spun stagnant beneath my cautious fingers and I flicked it to the earth as I couldn’t stand the rejection snuggled in her iris. She froze me there with the core of the world and although she would happily let my heart rot beneath my ribs; she was apprehensive to let me dance with traffic. She loved me more than a friend deserved, and buried her face beneath my curves. For that was where I needed her most; her anchor necessary to the shipwreck my heart was causing - the only part of the wreckage unable to watch me drown. I loved the way kindness creased her, how her face fought the sweetness that lay beneath every sweat drenched lick of her. She made my body burn with anticipation, only to be drenched in a molten sea of fingers and skin. How her flesh haunts me now that my sheets can’t be consumed by her.
Yet she always fled by morning. Even if she lay within reach she was acres away; debating with demons and kissing cyanide. Unable to tell me I was smothering her by gorging on her. But her smile was such a miracle, extracted from a vat of misery I cherished every whisper of it, she could never blame me for hoarding her. Was I just to let her roam? To be free for the bite of another man’s hold? I had to tame her, or to take her. By the end nothing mattered except that I could call her my foal. Even when the waters cooled and her heart became as frosty as her stare I still smiled as she killed me with the ghost of her affection.
It was over by the morning, but the hours she let me have her kept me going when the only other company I had was the silence of her vacant side of my nights. I longed for her to reach for me, to take my hand in her callus claw and beg that I maim her - brand her with my dedication so that she had no choice but to lay by my side as I finally gave up trying to glue myself back together. She’d gather my torn pieces and sew them up - I’d make a stylish throw for her dinner guests and never lament my purpose as I would have the blessing of her ownership. Her pride and joy; her inanimate toy.
She must never know of the allegiance to her I’ve sworn. A dutiful addict I’ve kept her a secret even from herself. But in the moments when I feel her flesh convulse, in the flashes of panting bliss that belong only to us and the moon, I don’t need the mornings; the night is still, and she is near.