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

And hers,

But it is available*

If *not free.

Beyond you I hear words I used to know:

Self love.


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.