I want my hands to be hot iron and that your skin desires my touch, I want you to be dust and my fingerprints to be the evidence that condemns me.

I want you to be in the Bible as sin and to be bathed in holy water because I want you to be everything that was ever forbidden and kills me. Because you have an ice cream smile in the sun and the voice of the gospel of the church. But I want you to be an unspeakable pain, that the penitence doesn’t compare to the blessing of knowing your taste and scent. 

Since I’m willing to put my chest in front if that wins me a little more time because I want to hear you recite the entire dictionary in order to have your ghost in my memory. 

I want you to drive me mad and for all my art to be a reflection of your gaze in oceans that don’t get storm clouds and I want my lips to be bathed in your acid so as to never kiss other than you. 

TA.