Untitled

Your hands
meat hammocks
fleshy knuckles
tubes of moist truth
that relax into my rent form
convex hills,
ridges,
the secret galaxies of my concealed bones bound in blood
like horrible pacts

Hold me, a sum of fluids
Cased in arteries and cells
my atoms appear as miniature insect skeletons,
those oddly shapped miracles, a symbiotic mess
That bring me life

I see my internal mechanisms
As abandoned sex crimes with the evidence of electrical tape, rope, signs of violence left against freeways to be found by cyclists

You clutch me
my whole
intact body
alive with
goose braile
Nightmares
Read in flesh

You clutch me
like death veils
on ancient skin
that had once known endless, glorious summers stretching into about forever and the coldness of winter's discontent

Those cold
dead
almost absent muscles
that had once moved
With the literal motion of pain
Like I do now
Silently
In my mind

You hold me
without eloquence
firmly
how I want you to
and see
Nothing