Sweet Red

Sweet Red slumber kisses my tongue,
just a few luscious drops linger
I was not made for bodily drink –
but in dreams we guzzle down blood
garnets, suckling wine from bones:
your tibia cracks wide and hollow
mica veins entrenched in calcium,
I sip, I swallow, I staunch the
pouring wound, take you into me
we are always necking and breaking
open each other’s organs that whine
with music like a cathedral in heat
you intoxicate me in a way waking
life is devoid of, I will drain you
dry, and as you moan out my name,
I am dying too, for to taste Death
is to cradle mortality, splinter
open the vault of your rib cage –
we blend and slosh in the fluted
glass of our love, our ruin, our
merciless fucking and sweet lies
and so I offer up my finger bones
and toes to kiss and fracture, just
take me and bruise me, as I wound
you, we were born to destroy every
crevasse of each other, and all
parts of your body make me drunk
so I engulf, you envenom, and we
fall into splendrous, love-mad
stupor.

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