Creation is Best Bound

Make love to me; gold lining and silver threads.

Bound covers designed and aged. 

Cut me; and soak up my tears when I weep.

Bind me ritualistically as I scribe sickly love letters.

Devour me; each thought I conjure up and hold tight to them.

We know I’ll forget soon. 

Put me on the mantle; spread me open over tea and tell me my own secrets; good grievances.

Pin down my spine; pen me under uniform lines til we’re unified lives and all I can do is—

Make you pretty; with horror, lust and yearnings, unforgettable.

Do you want some more?

‘Cause you’re beggin’ with tremblin’ edges and dog-eared pages for fine-tipped pens.

And I can’t tell you no– can’t wait to paint all this emptiness new colors….

Come now,

Don't be shy.