The roses are dead headed
as time kisses wire with frost,
a brush of rust tangling
like a threat.
I feel darkness in the air
and thoughts that reach out,
Ripping the cobwebbed veil.
You tap away at my door and
I listen as your whispers gather
around me in an incandescent web.
I know you wait for me
beneath the full, uncapped moon.
As I watch the fire fall to ash,
you cast a damned imprint
on my retina,
emblazoning your beauty like salt.
But nausea curls up inside me
like a red crescent
as I see the veined outline of
a hungry creature
consuming brackish fluid
to nourish itself.
But still I’m caught in your web
and I sway unmoored and loose,
losing my edges
overlapping with yours.
You reach for me and I’m afraid
that you’ll touch me,
that you’ll stop touching me.
I’m frightened
that you’ll split my skin completely,
cleaving me open like a pomegranate
spilling ruby pearls into the earth.
Your incisors go deep,
and I feel panic beneath the joy
of dissolving
into the hole that is your mouth,
as your hunger bleeds me into the sky.
