September – Nylcajj Hairam

August 15, 2020

the despair of it all, is rather exquisite.¿the pain-pleasure threshhold- it is ¿mine, and I dance that line with eyes ¿closed now. on tip toe I lean into ¿its embrace, this Darkness, this ¿Otherness that has found a nest¿between my ribs and ripped out ¿whatever was in its way. it is ¿delicate, with its claws down my¿arms, my spine- a tenderness ¿I cannot help but to shiver and¿fold into, a hapless lamb, all¿but clinging to its lapels, a ¿staccato beckoning in my ¿throat. Because I know. I know. ¿There is a moment where ¿I am sunk into, and flung away, ¿A spin into the void, a frantic ¿Breath, jagged at the rawness now¿In my throat. Still… There’s a ¿Freedom in such a free fall. ¿It’s my dance. My dance. Mine.

 

I want to roar and crash ¿And come hurtling at ¿You like the angriest of¿Waves. Jaw slack, frozen¿By the sight, I want to ¿Watch your eyes close¿And fall into you like the ¿Softest of night rain. ¿A whisper, a shiver, face¿Upturned like yes, this ¿Is the reprieve you need.

 

 

I do not want you to harden

yourself, like petrified wood,

in order to stand before me.

(let me see the moonlight

captured between the

vertebrae of your spine.)

and

y

et

you are the thing I fear

to touch, knowing just

how desperately I want

to dig my fingers in and

leave my mark…

are you as delicate as

you look? will

these desires

break

you