i'm always afraid holding you--

another one coming when i get my notebook back from britt. i think i may actually post some stuff on fictionpress for the first time all year...

...

i'm always afraid holding you--
the measure of your strength more
than the pull of the sinew, muscle of your limbs.
an aphrodisiac in your scent,
a tangle in your eyes,
you refuse the rope,
coat your feet in mud.
you are the original wild thing;
you are the sum of more than your parts.
in my arms, you curl in like a bowstring--tight--
i wait for you to snap my bones
and hold you closer.