photo: Anderaz

He feeds me
sticky dreams
by the spoonful
like a wicked tease.

He feeds me
metal on skin
the whispered cut
that will not close.

He feeds me
ice on hot bruises
and the terror
of his absence.

He feeds me
absolution in a
shot glass kiss
straight up.

He feeds me
the soft company
of fertile silence
on a rainy night.

He feeds me
just enough
to never
let go.

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