Who is the touch?
What beast wealds its talon slipper?
Where I sit beneath the sun
And wander upon mortal breath.
Freedom at a blade’s edge
But my obsessions overcame me
And I wandered into her skin
There we danced in silence and stillness
We melted into the mind
And I called to her ancestor’s hand
The color of the color of the color
Dripping jasmine in the mist of morning’s exhale
The resolution of sunlight
Total synesthesia
Reaping the swallowing brood
Eyes set as the famine moon
I would whisper “those” words
But a voice whispering “shoulds” denies me
corset poison corset

…fuck. it.