The danger dances
on my tongue.

I can feel its liquid steps
stomping on my will,
carousing with
the butterflies in my belly,

and I wonder if it’s always felt this way,
if the craving always feels
warm but unknown,
sweet but terrifying.

Torture waltzes through my blood,
and I realize it’s just
the taste of your tongue.
It’s the sight of you,
the edges of your bones
that haunt me,
that tingle their way
into trembles
when we touch,

and it’s so completely crazy,
chaos mixed with catastrophe,

and all I want is
your skin touching mine

just one more time.


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