Yes, I could totally be a man eater

Easy come, easy go.

easy to say at least.

like a change in the weather, just the way of things, to burn into ash and kindle the next spark.

I think I see in your eyes a sadness I’ve seen before. I feel the tightening of your nerves. I remember how much I hate it to play pretend with anothers body.

Hello.

What’s your name?

Where are you from?

And where are you going?

What’s that you’re hiding?

What hunger drives you forward?

What name keeps you awake at night?

Will you tell me?

What do I make of myself? Who am I before you? A brush of the leg, a touch of the hand—non-intentional.

Make it intentional.

Will I pretend not to notice? What if I got a little closer?

Can I still melt the same way? Can we exchange blood and a promise to be touched by no one else?

I love the smell of your skin on mine, I love the tears left behind, left on your fingertips, staining my notebook.

I love the air we pollute with breathy words, exhaled reliefs, left hanging at the close of your voice, directed at me.

I hate the air when the last words were mine.

What can I give that hasn’t already been taken? That has not been given before. Why is everyone so full ? I want us to drain ourselves empty and stuff ourselves with eachother. Is it too much to ask again?

Sorry, I can't help my tongue. I hope you don’t mind if I let it feel the tip of yours.

I love to suck the words from your lips, I love to open my mouth and let you suck out mine.

How can I trust your words won’t turn cold? That you won’t inject poison into my dreams? I give you too much power, I just want an excuse to negate that which is mine.

Forget it, the dramatics.

What’s the meaning of an extra block walked? One more drink! One more morning, one more question.

Do you hate me already?

Do you like what I do to your neck?

I know you do—when I graze it. Maybe that’s enough. Maybe i’ll squeeze so hard until you push me away.

Where will you go?

Who have you left behind?

What will you think of me when you see me over your shoulder?

Will you move, imagining first and reach for something you think I can give?

I’ll let you, if you do. I will let you hold me, and fill me with all your dreams, I’ll believe them.

But I have somewhere to go! Conveniently, before you drop me.

I love forgetting to sleep on your account. I love laughing at 3 a.m., conversations that erase time, the promises of our plans tomorrow, and whispers all the same.

I love tracing my name into your back as you sleep, feeling your hair between my fingers. I like watching; I hate knowing.

And if I wake up next to someone else, will they disappoint me? Will I spend 1000 years trying to figure out what I did to disappoint you? Will I ever forget the look in the eyes that wake up and fall, when you look at mine, but not the ones you were dreaming about?

You, before me—what brought you here?