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SelfCare
To the Woman with the Sinuous Voice and Marble Skin I find you where desire is an open wound, In the flesh that pulses, in the silent scream, You are gentle violence that awakens me, Melancholy in your molded body. I want you in the most brutal and fierce delivery, Without masks, without restraints, without any shame, To feel your violence in your touch and in your voice, To be hurt by you and call that love. You're flesh, you're a blade, you're an exposed wound, And yet, you're a cure that I don't know how to contain, A cruel mystery that drowns me and puts me on the edge of chaos, where I want to live.
