Breathing

Breathing

could you come a little closer? slide that way you slide, so shy, wanting mouth open, try to suck in enough air to pacify the limits of lungs so useless in the dark mantle of these deeds, haunting your fingertips as they trace the contours of my lips, speaking too deaf silence closer my love, there will be no more breathing: quiet these vain protests echoing past the dying candle; nononononono, i don’t want this any more than you want the icy prongs of betrayal along the spine, harrowing soil to bear the fruit of your transgressions, elevated in your judas gaze; oh, darling, this heat is consuming the oxygen in the room of four, volatile hatred turned to lust; oh, woe are we caught in the movements that drag our tongues together, choking each other to the rhythm of two hearts bleeding into a single pool of glimmering vice.

- Fu-zu Jen, 7.13.99