Our Teeth And Ambitions Are Bared

I am blessed to have felt your hands brush my skin. You painted over my imperfections and left me tingling with shapes like constellations.

The ache in my chest when I think about your smile is the same one I feel when I look at the moon. The infinite questions stay the same too.

I would like to write that Daedalus built his labyrinth based on your story. The twists and turns are as elaborate as my metaphor. I should stop using metaphors.

I want to feel your hands on my skin again. Just for that one second I relaxed. I want to do it again.

i am scared that when you hear the stories about me you will laugh with them.

i am scared that when i touch you i will hurt you and make you wince.

i am scared that when your mouth dips to meet mine you will taste the disappointment and bitterness.

the dark does not roar;

she does not make a sound

yet you fear her coming,

and her presence in your head…

but yet your heart is candescent,

your mind; fluorescent,

your own skin; iridescent,

you are glowing.

so why, my child, are you scared?

the monsters are your allies,

the darkness is your shield,

your ineffable imagination will be your weapon,

against the rivals of the day.

day causes the shadows that dance,

and dreaming is frowned upon.

for the day is a time to work not play,

but you, my child, are a dreamer.

you are born from the night,

a warrior of the twilight,

be quiet and still in the day…

Fingernails cling for grip on collarbones and jawlines

as sanity slips off the cliffs edge. Two bodies colliding

but not like asteroids or pieces in a jigsaw puzzle.

The world doesn't care about these two entwined.

Bruised lips pull together there is no spark of electricity

just soft sounds of agreement. Marking territory with

bites and scars. Two chests pressed together so hard

with their hearts beating manically, out of time and rushed.

They will leave in the morning and the world will not know

of the rushed night they shared, of the blood that