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