The amber heat of you, stretched smooth and gold
between your shoulders and elbows, elbows and wrists,
wrists to each determined, scarred knuckle.
I cannot pick a battle with you at all.
Ink on my skin, lightning in my mouth,
I entreat you, parlay you, assuage you.
Your ego and I, we conspire against you, we lay traps
you will never see. See how much I need you. See me
collapse inward, dying star, when you leave.
Stellar, cosmic, universal, I twist in the veins of your light,
full of dust and mysterious metal.
The spine of me, iron where there should be fluid, magnets
where cartilage should bend, snaps me
back to your arms quicker than the hiss of the incoming rain.
Ink on your skin, where I drew myself in.
Your fear, in the dark, is low
and rolls deeper than the thunder. I am elated.
I am strong.
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