Blood rivulets from neck to breast as you
sink moonshine fangs into giving flesh
the crook where earlobe meets collarbone
ripe as apples for plucking ruby wine
it hurts, it heals, your bite sings warm
I moan and bend in all the right ways
you caress and take, drink, tease out
all the secrets within my starry veins
puncture wound burns, you lap up liquid
surrender, and we become the Eucharist,
your body bread, my soul wine, holy, holy.



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