I draw your howling breath into my lungs,
your tongue breaking me down like a map.
There is hardly a secret between us
and those that remain
are merely pretensions of civility.
(If you truly knew what I thought
you’d hate me as you hate yourself.)
The covered moon moves in stillness,
no less a Goddess in discretion.
I watch you rear up
bestial and brazen
from the coffin of my thighs.
If there were food
I’d silence you with a meal
but there is only
this terrible emptiness.
I am too vague for imitation,
less than human,
inestimable and weathered down.
I am lost in your indivisibles,
in your sweet nothings,
in the casualties of our conflicting truths.
I split you seam to seam like a fish
your nothing but offal and suspicion.