Love.

Love. I once thought the same thing that could destroy me might
also save me; nourish my lungs and strengthen my limbs, bones milk-fed
and ready to take flight. My wings obey. Take me to your leader is the
song the bird sings for love makes it blind. Passions that rose and
flooded every pore in my body lay stagnant now in the recesses of a place that is more practical. It's been a long time since I confronted the fire so I don't feel the
burn the way that I used to. The best part was always preparation.
Lascivious looks cause raw lips & neck wounds, our swollen tongues
and smacking thighs. I'd beat myself with love.