Knife’s Edge

With idle thoughts, I come to imagine you
With wandering speculation, I come to realize you
With a muted touch, I trace you in the air
Trace you down to each crevice and each snare

My touch threading down your clavicles
Like on a knife’s edge, ecstasy and caution interplayed
Fingers through your tresses, is how I take you in
Make you feel real, make you feel sweet

If I were to cut myself on this path, down your clavicle sharp
And bleed at the altar of your church
May my blood cherish this lost chantry of lust
Lost in the rabbit hole, that is your love

You enchant, with the intangibles you leave behind
The silage of your scent that haunts my sheets
The blurred flashes of your touch
The gentle roaming in the air, of your moan and your musk

The moistness of your skin that seeps into my blood
Souses my passion; drenches my love
Each syllable that I utter, is measured, is restrained
Bar those, that form your name

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