01.04.2023

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your lips taste like pickled plums

your smile blooms like the bloody bruise

that the monster left on my body

robust, red lips, like pomegranate seeds

without the gratifying crunch

your fingers skim my skin like insects on water

healing my wounds from the monster's claws

a warmth that rivals hestia's hearth

fueled by my pitiful, pleading wood

your voice is like the waves of the dead sea

your murmurs like the tattered blanket

that the monster drapes over me

taming the shrew into subservience

i shiver, i dissolve, but your resolve remains

a sweet silhouette of a monstrous love