You make new words with an old tongue
Parched, I drink you in.
Slow growing, I am weakened
But you are all there is.
Perhaps, had I enough
I would steel myself
And reach for something that sates me.
In a perfect everything I alone might be enough.
I have neither world nor time.
I am not without my fear of being in the dark
I let you break me.
Your touch is cold and empty
But it is available*
If *not free.
Beyond you I hear words I used to know:
My mirror reflects a face that
Used to be mine
Though it never belonged to me.
All of me has bled into you.
I crush the part of me who remembers what words
Used to mean.
Parched, I open my mouth and take you in.
Poison. Sweet and dark as
The death of me it heralds.