The Blood & The Bones

We don’t fuck ..

.. or make love

Instead, he consumes me.

Pulling me in as if I am the last of all things..

Each time devouring completely..

.. as though sliding into me is the long awaited nourishment through barren winters in the gaps of my presence.

Sustaining his existence each time we collide and writhe in ecstasy.

He tastes me, sinking his teeth into my very being like I am the first kill after a long hibernation. The first drink from an oasis in desolation.

And I feel alive and all-consuming. As if he does not only want me but needs me.

When I am with him it is never just sex or just love or just anything ..

It is surviving.

the blood
& the bones