Tilt Your Head To The Side

old lovers, with history

your eyes are like stars going out (one by one their twinkling is snuffed by unforgiving hands)
your colours go to darkness (pulled at the egdes by little plucking fingertips)
your pale belly is torn red shreds (prodding fingers pulling at your insides, they spill, like brightly coloured ribbons ready to play dress-up)
you are a treasure chest
which I can
open
and
close at my will
(pulling out pieces of my prize and putting them back. my fingers left slick with the feel of it. i like the feel of this chest)
swaying back and forth, i kneel beside you, buried in you up to the elbows (my fingers wrapped round your ribs, clutching at your too quick heart)
We could be like old lovers, you and i (were it not for the history pulling us down and down and down to the bottom of the sea)
if i choke on your breath, my fingers scrabbling at you lungs-
does it make you bitter? the way I take you down with me?-
I know the lay of you, my little darling
I know the lay of you, my little dear
I know the lay of you, all. the. way. through