Jan 22, 2025
LOVE AS THE COLOUR OF BONE,
because it rips through flesh with ease. For words born of tenderness,
it carries weight precisely. I become a listener at the sight of your soft
mouth, I know what your bite is capable of, but I trust implicitly, that
you won’t. Is that what love is? I grow feverish to the touch when I
hold your name in my mouth & grow a second sun in my chest when
I think of you. A hunger so feral, everything I eat sticks to my ribs,
what else is left, but to consume everything that ties back to you.


















