There are things that I need from you.
On a day like this, a black rose with a red ribbon through its single thorn,
which I’ll try to detach only to let more red out. I’ll need you to
mop the fluid off the pad of my thumb,
off your pristine marble floor. I’ll need you to
pretend you’re doing it for the first time. Always.
Tomorrow it will be diamonds that I’ll want, rough cut, rose tinged
set across my throat, a million dollar rope. I’ll need you to
pull till the edge digs into your hand,
into my cartoid, where it bulges out. I’ll need you to
let go only when you think I’ve taken enough.
A few whispered words, the next. Lies, dripping honey
dripping poison, things they told you. I’ll need you to
bring out your sticks and stones,
use them often, use them well. I’ll need you to
Do all this, and do some more, there’s nothing
to lose in loving me.