I feel more sinister every moment that we pass. Sexual and violent each time we touch. The energy in spaces in between sizzles and fizzles and burns against my skin and hairs. I’m standing taut, erect, just dancing on the air.
I want to bury you in bloody, swollen envelopes. I want to swallow you whole, feel the pressure press down my esophogus and bury itself bulging in my gut. I want to bear you away with me and birth you once we’ve broken free from chains and whips and this chemical burden inheritance.
But you laugh and cull my digressions so easily it really actually is almsot funny.
Am I laughing?
Oh, ho ho no. But you smile because you know I’m instantanouesly powerless with the flick of your tongue and the click of your wrist. Pop your knuckles like you lackadaisically pop my bones. Snip, snap. Crick, crack.
I’m crumbling dust below your high heeled shoes, below your power ties and power stripes. Below your heavy plodding footfalls. Below your mellowly accepted pitfalls.
Sink holes in your logic don’t seem to bother you, anger you, aggitate the simple pleasures afforded you.
Oh let me bow and kiss the tips of your toes and polish the floor of poor you tread upon.
Please laugh and light my hair on fire and toast your marshmallows while I burn. Nothing awful will come of this separation. The world will not turn it’s back on you. The sun will always shine.
You may be right, but I hate you all the same.
Purge your power from stinging tongues and hold coals to your lips and eyes.
Then, maybe, we can talk again.