wake my becoming, turn me wild

i want you to make love like you're trying to remember something.

like you've been here before. in another life. in another body.

Oh, love of my life,

what a dangerous name to give you.

It is to sign a contract with God and the devil alike,

to accept the possibility of dying alone with your name still carved inside me.

It is to grow wings made of Icarus' wax and mistake the sun for a home.

It is to lock myself inside a garden maze full of flowers,

to dive into the deepest ocean and find nothing but darkness.

It is to hold you within me when you never asked to remain.

It is to fall at your feet and whisper,

look at me, please, look at me,

while other lights continue to awaken your eyes.

And perhaps that is the cruelest thing.

Begging to be loved is the moment love disappears.

Even the devil, watching such devotion,

would feel pity.