Sometimes, I wonder if emptiness is a virtue,
if anger can be graceful or neat or
beautiful. I like to reach inside your mind: not to
steal your worries away, but rather
to mix your thoughts up a bit, stir your intellectual stew and set the heat to simmer.
I can taste your murmurs, your silent protests
to breaking rules, breaking dishes, breaking bones.
We used to break the ice, just to dive under and
feel the chill.
I miss the shock of your skin on mine,
the kiss on my shoulder.
(you liked the graceful slope
and the perilous drop of my slender arms, I just enjoyed
your flattery.)
You told me to dance on their rooftops.
You told me to carry you down the Ganges as a floating temple,
a tribute to the vastness of desire. Your voices echoed in my hollows.
I asked you for salvation.
You pressed your heart to my lips
and told me to wait.
-------
Congratulations.
You are the official proof that people with more teeth
than brain cells shouldn't breed with each other.
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Good job at being creepy :D
