Of what you could be
That I would succumb so completely
In that crook that could mean nothing but a warm body
That I would find a world never imagined.
It fills the throat and chokes
It tangles in hair and holds firm
Eyes fighting to open
To see every facet of a being.
Of what I was.
A shoulder told so much.
A casual touch, a habit never consciously harbored
Eliciting a need to control I never knew I garnered.
A firmer grasp, hold tighter, hold harder.
The clench and despair and a gag on sensation
Addiction revealed in desecration.
Of this affliction’s existence
I’d find you in repentance.