She held the fire of a thousand frustrated suns in both her eyes, irises opening and closing again like butterflies and I am still as I watch her because her lifeforms are too much for me
She is the swelling pregnancy of fire between her fingertips, ash dispensed from broken lungs
She is flame crushed beneath a dying humanity and I crave to know the way her skin aches to release the taut elasticity inside of her
She is falseness stretched to cover her like sheets and I breathe quietly in the moments I can hear her speak
She speaks of skin like it is the very stuff that cages her body and I pray for the light that breeds inside her bones
Her bones are so beautiful in their cracking fragility and I know she wakes empty and aching
A dull sensation insatiable in its honesty and I see she's on her knees
I see her knees they're bleeding now and still I find her so very hurtfully beautiful
I see her skin paper thin like butterfly wings
Fingerprints tattooed as if someone tried to finger paint across her canyons and
I am breathless underneath her beauty
It is far too heavy and I am far too tired to sleep my darling
But maybe I can find vacant relief in the way your bones crave to release you
