Inch

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This thing?

Is not a casual fling.

Not for me.

I’ll make you see. I will make you love me.

I want the bones of you.

The sleepy iridescent pools of blue

The moving tides of your beautiful blood.

The bad. The good,

I want the unfurling, uncurling length and breadth of you.

I will make you love me.

This heat of mine can’t help but yearn.

It will singe the sockets and pockets of your soul.

I’m more than whore. Isn’t everyone?

You already like me a little.

You’ve already given an inch ..inches.

But in a while .. I’ll get the mile.

(c) Slumpless

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