Your fingerprints are still in my pillows. You've crumpled my sheets with your jittery hands. I would cradle your wet eyes but it is not me in your text. Not me in your sweetest fragrant fantasies. And certainly not me dancing behind your motivations when your hands go wandering for skin.
I have no distance on me. I am a crippled expanse of unused emotions. A girl full of good intentions and sharp knives. A girl like that will only lead to trouble. A girl like that only has one use. A girl like that is only good for one thing. A girl like that is like a snake under your skin. A girl like that wants too much. A girl like that might just kill you in your sleep.
With my heavy blood-slicked thighs, I will kneel before the moon and whisper your name to the moths. Whisper little bits of your secrets that your never even realized you told me. The night and I will go out dancing stirring up the road dust with our feet and darting down the alley with the feral cats. In and out of yards and garbage cans whispering your name; calling your game to us. Calling you. Calling you. Look out your window. I'm there right now.
