A mess of me. A mess of you.

“I promise to kiss every mole that has taken a space on your body, lose count and start again.”

“Tell me you mean that.”

“I do.”

 

I do not know how you so effortlessly unravel the core of my vulnerability like a ribbon.

Now I search for you in the middle of the night, in the middle of sleep. Nothing, not even the night is complete in your absence. My undoer, my unraveler, your beauty breaks me into two. You breach me with your love, my love, and I am bleeding molten sugar over your chest. A sweet, sticky mess. A mess of me, a mess of you.

Last night I wrote letters on your bare back. My fingers for nibs, my tongue for candle wax. Tonight I will hold you through the sungone hours by your breasts, and in the morning, your nipples will have inked my palms.

Each day you find new ways to make me yours and keep me. Each day I receive you and submit to your summon without fail. You will ruin me, and I will let you because I want you to.

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4 thoughts on “A mess of me. A mess of you.

  1. a fantastic way of penning thoughts, its a gifted quality that demands to be utilized more often. Kudos!

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