Streams carving patterns
Along curves and creases
I clutch at the edge
The smooth, hard reality
Cool against my cheek
As your fingertips
Press bruises
Into the line of my hip
And your other hand
Wraps itself in the
Long, Red Strands

of me

Lower
Wider
Deeper
Good girl

Let me drown in the
Current of you
Make me lose my grip
On the edge
And reason
Push me past that point
That I’ve never
Been able to cross
Douse the fire
And watch it burn, eternal
Empty me
As you empty yourself

into me