Tags
chaos, divine, dragonflies, sin, sonnet
I want to steal your soul because, they claim,
the soul is said to be held in one’s breath.
Come and whisper in my mouth. Breathe your name
inside me and I will keep it safe. Death
has no meaning when I lap it up. Lips
to lips. The way I lap every drop up.
Raw. Half-baked. Tiny tongue fucks. Tongue that slips
inside your prayer song. This ancient worship
we all do. Yes. You. Me. Divine. When love
is not divine it is not love. It spins
us. I’m dizzy. I want you but above
all else I want your soul. In me. Our sins
of the flesh. Our kissing flesh never lies.
Kissing is the havoc of dragonflies.
