cataclysm

sun pours liquid gold onto your skin and asks for nothing in return,
burnishing brown-bronze back knotted like basalt against the
stark of my bed sheets, i get jealous
of the way rain seeps into you, bleeds through your pores, i want to
get that close, rub stardust into every crater, let me
breathe the same air, so close we can’t tell whose sweat is whose, let me
trace moon phases with my tongue, raise goosebumps like cold winds
snaking through your layers, let me
into your furthest hiding place, beneath the hook where you
hang your fears to dry, let me
mould myself to your corners and fold myself over your edges, let me
lay flat against every surface you’ve kept me from carving my initials into, i want to
taste your dreams on your lower lip, let my
hands follow the moonshine stains on your body, i can
see the stories on your eyelids, on your shoulders, on your feet, the
pain in your hands scratching down my spine like you’re
punishing me, for being too open, too wanting, too here, my
alabaster box, you are unyielding, let me
be the treasure, be liquid gold and like
sun pour myself onto your skin and ask for nothing in return,
burnish brown-bronze back knotted like basalt against the
stark of my bed sheets.

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