a contest of passions: hot breath like smoke upon winter-wrapped goosebumps, mumbled oaths tangled together between tooth and tongue. a gun stuffed beneath a loose-fit t-shirt, nails digging like daggers into sweat-slicked skin, leaving scars like hieroglyphs, like signatures. guerrilla heartfare, atom bomb detonations held in clammy palms, wounding and wailing, kisses thick as jungles, leaving swollen lips beaded with bright blood. i want us, bound by bedsheets, wearing ligature marks proud like bracelets, bandages like badges, like trophies, we love so much we can't hope to contain or control so we do not bother to try. the day you rip my beating heart straight from my splintered ribcage is the day i will truly know that i could never want anybody else.
thorns and roses // j.d.k.
