cartwheels

make me taste the sweet rejoice of your latest triumph...
even though it's going unspoken...you are loving me so hard and so good that i am no longer a child, with the lock to her bedroom on the outside of her door...
i can't forget what it's like to want you, just like i can't seem to get rid of the scabs holding onto the back of my foot from blisters that i know will form if i pick at those scabs, leaving my heels without a suitable form of defense...
i want your skin to grind my layers away like sandpaper...with the power on high, and the paper extra grainy...i want the sharp stares you throw, to freeze me in my place like a wind through the sandhills during winter...
i want you to see me the way i've never seem myself...
it's just that you've never looked this good to me...and i want this tapestry of lust to cover me more than usual...and i don't need love.
i want to see you shake.
like sex...like withdrawl...like parkinsons...like dreams about snakes making your heart race and your breathing speed...
the taste of salt on the tip of my tongue...making it's way around your body...
i want to swallow you down with a glass of lukewarm sugarwater...
those shivers start at the base of my spine and creep ever so dangerously into my neck...
my eyes bolt shut like prison bars
and then you pierce me with warm flesh and i am left with nothing except aching.
i finally know what religion is.
and i want more.
pressing deeper into my layers...you're getting to know me.
this time, i want the lights on.
so you can see what your body is capable of doing to me.
release has never been captured so well.
and it's never felt so good not to breathe.
when what's inside needs to be held onto.
my body is a minefield.and you're doing cartwheels.