salt and flame

Content Warning

Break me. 

Break me until, nothing left

but fine grains of you and,

reborn— 

your name, 

still seared on my tongue.

bitter. 

burnt. 

Mine, 

we were forged 

to kill and die. 

your breath always a curse

my spine arched towards. 

you glanced at me 

like war. 

i glared back 

like I wanted to lose. 

i hate you. 

i told myself until 

the words kneeled 

i had a thousand lifetimes

to run 

and still— 

caught in the labyrinth

of your lips 

in some of them 

your knife drove clean.

in others 

i guided it 

begging 

deeper— 

a thousand lifetimes 

every one ended 

with your breath

you are my wound 

you are my knife 

engraved in my flesh with salt

so it never forgets 

how to burn 

because pain is what you are

and my blood is forever 

yours to reap 

and yet— 

our hand. 

on my chest. 

pressed to my chest 

as if measuring 

where to enter. 

every rib splitting open—

greet your blade 

Take it. 

Take it. 

this love is venom. 

so we drink 

slow 

until the salt forgets its bitterness

Sweet. 

you bit my lip 

i bled true. 

you whispered die for me

and i smiled— 

Again? 

saline. 

feral. 

seeking sweet 

solely where salt thrives 

you unmake me 

shaking hands 

ruin me 

to rebuild me, 

Wrong.

crooked. 

grainy. 

mine, yours 

we still dance 

at the pulse 

we do not hold hands 

but at the throat— 

gasping with each drop of

stolen breath; stolen blood 

because if a suffocation

could make this jail endless

we would open our mouths and beg 

for less air 

us 

all because we were 

tantalized 

through this salty smoke. 

no one writes epics 

about lovers 

who choose fire 

knowing they will burn. 

so we write 

with blood 

with teeth 

half-mad, 

half-live, 

laughing through smoke,

rotting into bloom, 

dragging 

deeper 

death 

in this 

beautiful 

brutal 

brine