rigadoon

I want to bring my lips to this fire, to this heat, this flame that burns ceaselessly between the crook in your elbow, between the shadow residing behind your ear and the space where your hair begins to grow. I want the impression of your teeth deep, deep, deep, cavernous, below the surface. "Bite my shoulder," I say, and you soften. You relent and let me take you. And I can see it all. And I can feel it all. And I can, I can, I can go on all night--- with you. I can go around the world and back for you. I can jump through hoops, flaming hoops, emerging singed, but unaware, oblivious to peeling flesh, to pain, to heat that is not yours.


I want much more than this.