Rapple23

I long not for your words or your flesh or your smile, Just the white of your bones, their crescent curves, Pressed hard against my hungry lips. I would claw through sinew like freshly dug earth, Could guzzle your blood like communion wine, If only to peel open that which cages your heart. My fingers ache with unrestrained lust, To touch where your skin becomes polished and carved, And play you like piano keys, Till the age-sharpened edges make my skin weep in shards, My breath still and heavy, dead in my chest, At the thought of my blushing cheek Resting on the rising ridges of your torso. I dream nightly of sleeping amidst your