#grand intervention

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even now

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I only miss it a little bit, and only on occasion.

And I see flashes of you when I close my eyes;

for a moment, an ache, the ember of desire,

your palm against my cheek again, and

I find myself wondering where I’ve been.

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I know you speak of me hatefully. At least then my name is on your lips.

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Gouging

Until they once again reflect your obsidian shine.

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Heaven

I recall our history in a fine line, and realize with abject horror that I have no defenses in your favor left.

I thought if one thing were to stay, it would be my obsession, my infatuation, my love for you; and yet I turned and found it had abandoned me like everything else.

I had lost it; it slipped through my fingers like the nights I spent with you, pacing aimlessly as the clock ticked to midnight and noon following afternoon and evening and as the sun shone through the windows I realized no part of me held your touch.

The scarlet seeping from slit wrists lacked your colors, and my seven year Heavenly love vanished like a ghost.

It was love like religion; blind, utter devotion. I was not unaware of our sins, but I was bound to a vow of silence; I could only hope you changed your ways; then I found we both had; I felt for your hand and it still fit as it did before.

We dance around each other like butterflies; we are in love in the same way an old sweater chafes even older wounds. I embrace the foreign familiarity. I know you. I love you. You know me. You love me. This is a silent understanding, an agreement without words.

I crave to crave you. I have lost all feeling and I thirst for thirst. I would dash into a burning building if it meant feeling again even a fragment of the passion between us; we loved like a wildfire; perhaps that is what I have lost; perhaps that is what I craved.

I lied. Or rather, I was wrong.

I wanted you. I wanted the version of you I knew you could be. I wanted the ideal I held for you, and that was not unreasonable of me. Your hand in mine felt as if it was wrapped around my neck, and so I let go, so that I could breathe again; I found your prints inside of me.

I wanted the version of you that could survive forever with me. I loved you. I loved what you could have been. I resented you for what you weren’t.

You hit me, you hated me, you lied to me, you didn’t know you were meant to care about me or consider me, and you loved me. You loved me.

I loved you too.

Can our last dance show us what our first dance could have been? Can I lean my head against your chest, and can you fear I would hear your pounding heartbeat, revealing your affections, like we used to?

For one last moment, will you sway with me in time to our inevitable future? Could you dance with me as if no one else mattered, as if we were the only survivors of the apocalypse; if the world was comprised of just you and I?

And then, could you join me in prayer for time to stop, so that our last moment will never end?

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Truth

I would let you break my heart, for as long as it is by your hands.

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Grave

A washed out photograph in my mind. I buried you alive.

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Hunger

There is freedom in this madness. I drown in you.

You, who has left me here alone.

I will consume you again and again until it all fades to black.