I’m back in that space
where it’s perfect to be
spread for you, gorgeously undone.
I know you know what I want,
the cold scalpel,
the hot stone,
the heaviness of your glove,
the pressure of your fist.
Back in that space
where I can hear
the crying of your heart,
the wanting of you
to bend me, break me.
You know I know what you want,
the split of me peeled open
and singing for you.
