i am sweet, when you bite
and the juices run down your chin
like a path to righteousness--
sweet like lowered eyelids
on a sunday night, the gentle touch
on your broad back when i tell you
that i'm yours, all yours.
coquettish hands that can't compete,
i am sweet and you are strong
and there is a dark room
waiting to be discovered.

i am cruel, cruel like sex
that calls for corners of bars,
poorly lit bathroom stalls where the hands
grasp for flesh and fear.
cruel with fingernails that leave marks
like daggers in the wood, like arrows
or darts, straight to the mark,
and ten perfect lines down your back.
i am cruel like a winter snow
that freezes, melts, freezes, and leaves
the grass gasping for air
and your heart pleading for room.

you are harsh, violent with words
that tear like thunderstorms on summer nights,
the window ajar and all the babies
with their ears on their pillows
can still hear your hate,
harsh like the strike of hammer,
the blow that foretells a long process
of putting myself back together when
i'm fragile and you're the anvil
and the fire, all at once.

i am strong like a back that won't break
under sunburn, labor, endless treks
without a hint of water, sweet water--
you are a breath of cool air
and the mint leaves at the bottom of the glass,
i am strong and you are sweet
and there is a world that needs knowing.