A Mouth Full of Blood

You came to me in broken bloom,
hips wrapped in gauze,
eyes black as static skies.
Every word was a wound —
sweet, splitting —
a hymn half-swallowed in the throat.

You dragged your name across my teeth —
slow, deliberate —
tasting the ache you left behind.
I wore your hunger like a wire around my neck,
praying to the rhythm
of hands pressed beneath velvet night.

Would you build a kingdom from this ruin?
Would you carve me clean —
tongue to bone —
or leave me here,
singing you into the cracks of forever?