Your gaze is a rock through my window.
Your breath is the sting of a scorpion,
Preying upon my neck.
So still, I am
That I might not anger you.
Your touch is drama, as gossip floats
Above my hips and sinks down
Below my waist.
Your hate is a cool oasis,
Words trickling softly down my throat.
I lick up the ones I've missed
Which splatter over my chest.
Your voice is tension building,
Singing dirt covered words that strangle.
Your hurried movements are shadows,
Quick against the wall and gone again.
Your cries are poison, flooding my veins,
Stopping my heart.
My cries are safety, a landing struck.
My touch is a battle, waging war across
Your hills and valleys.
My hate is danger, pulling you closer still
Into the heat and flames.
My gaze is falling, watching a rock
Break my window.