i sit quietly

keeping my face perfectly stiff

two eyes strained against the sun

one mouth in a grimace of a smile

i crave the hold they have on each other

desperate for the warmth of that star but instead i settle for the cold sea

to wash over me

with sand in my mouth and tears in my eyes. the grass is dry

and so are my hands

with these i grip the table legs in fear they may leave me

and i cover my skin

they quiver an earthquake

a force of nature

i cannot control them

i want to use them to grab a face

until i connect with a pair of lips

they travel to a neck and they hold tight and they dont let go

because a corpse is always better when its at your disposal

they form a mess

a mess of blood and flesh and bones

i grind on the table in front of you

you dont touch them. i want to know what you dont love