~
'Vessel'
'Vessel'
In the night of
the cinema, you
poured yourself
down my throat
like electricity,
coursing through
my arms and wrapping
yourself
around my
shoulders like an
unwelcome lover;
infiltrating,
penetrating, swelling
my veins
and stilling my
tongue except
for when it
speaks of you.
Perfection in
the angle of
your jaw line.
Perfection
in the curve of
your cheekbone.
Perfection,
sharp and blinding,
in the length of
your long fingers.
You crackle like
sex and magic;
you rape me with
the force of your
invisible scent.
You are statuesque
and
impenetrable, six feet tall on
the screen and
six inches long as a
jagged shard in
my aorta, creeping
ever closer to
that vital chamber
where you will
finally tear my
left ventricle
and stop my blood,
my breath, with
lust. You will
fill me till I
can be filled no longer,
because you live
by alien rules that
enable you to
transcend time and
space so you can
crawl between my
legs when I’m
alone and suck me dry,
make me cry,
make me hate you, make
me love you, make
me your hollowed
vase filled with
withered blooms that
vaguely resemble
what I used to be.
I rue the day I knelt
willingly at the
altar along with
the millions to worship
your ruthless
beauty and two-edged gifts
that you scatter
for us to scramble over
like crazed
maenads. I am mindless with
a hunger that
can only be fed by your
silver tongue.
Deceiver, weaver of
wayward thoughts,
fill me again with
your knife-like
eyes; pour out my mind
and fill it with
your smooth limbs and
impregnate me
until I disintegrate and
my bones melt
into yours and serve to
make you ever
stronger.
~
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