Milk


Milk

As I lay here
Cradling you in my weary ribs
A saccharine fever
Like the black spiders poison
Ripe, garnet red.

 Decaying limbs intertwined
A bodiless affection
Every sweet follicle of your being
I absorb – inebriating.

 An elegant crux entanglement,
Of swollen fibres
The amiable death of emptiness,
Held deep,
a precious blood jewel.

I drink your words,
I capture every thought in your eyes with mine,
Longing for your body to swallow me whole,
To drown me in your milk-wine blood.

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