This language is mine
Silky lover
willing slave
The only one that has ever done
exactly
what I ask it to
command it to
the crucible of creation
exists between my lips and fingertips
If I say I lack the words
to tell you
to tell
you
I’m a liar.
It’s just if I let them out
they might overwhelm
not sate
they might devastate
you may not ever be the same
or I may not
and I cannot know
whether that’s to the good,
evil being so relative
when hearts speak,
and understanding so tardy.

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