A Song In My Veins

In your thraldom, I am your valley of almond blossom, your sulky prey, drowning in water music in this lovelorn frame. 
I waited for you there, at our secret place, day after day, like a deluge in a meadow, in my best outfit, with my tousled brown hair, my dull heart, and my idle, boyish ways. 
I watched how melancholy blooms like nocturnal fantasies in crestfallen silence, and I wandered like a wayward sun. 
Fucking you in my dreams. I am your doll, your starry-eyed fool, kissing your neck until you bleed ruby sunsets, as autumn dances in my bones. 
I did not eat today. I threw my emotions away. I get bored when life pontificates. I remember you like an old friend.
Death pulp, sulking like a bad tattoo.
This room is Hell, wearing a penchant for diction. I bolster my posture. Sweat-soaked in foliage, running my fingers through the brook. Sweet candid nook, softly playing in bed. I'm your little masochist. Ruminating under the washed-out sky. I close my eyes and see you there. 
How time changed us, 
Like a song in my veins. I've poisoned myself again. 
Melting into a tapestry of drunken nights, masturbating and chain-smoking. Nearside, through austere winds, pleasure between moons of pain, sucking on fine-drawn transparencies, the nectar of your limbs. 
Taste the alcohol on my tongue. Fervent with desire, I give in to impulse. 
Half-cut with warm spit. Pine-scented days, drinking scars rooted in yellow light. Tonight I believe in nothing but love. A mirror of rapture, I can never get enough of it. The lichens I envy. The breathless trees. Kissing boys with beautiful smiles. Sex in red rooms, on ceramic vessels. 
I want it all.