my ecstasy,

your gentle touch is a consistent one. 

fingers running down my back like spiders descending from silk strung webs,

you whisper promises in my ear.

braid my hair like a child, convoluted yet i still praise your effort.

warm, wet kisses wake me up every morning, your arms taut around me as i lay bare.

every time we pluck cat ears from barren grounds, you remind me that’s how you chose me. 

“there’s no need for a beautiful life to be surrounded by desolation. i knew you were mine.”

and when i start to wonder if maybe i was actually the field full of wildflowers,

your grip tightens on my throat as you remind me of who owns this property.

you know how i love being put in place. 

i want to thank you for the way you touch me,

i never understood what people meant when they told me depression got a hold of them.

a fascination storms inside of me whenever you speak,

a strong, malign influence.

stories say these are butterflies.

i’m scared of what will happen if i lose you, your lips are like oxycodone 

drizzled with white lies and honey.

please never let your grip loosen.