daynabhattiroberts.blog

i want you to think i’m the most interesting girl in the world 

i want the burn of summer’s sunset to feel akin to my fingers when it skims the bone of your hip 

there, between these wants, is a question of whether i want to love at all 

red – the color of love of hell of death – 

of blood spilling on linen sheets and on long hallowed grounds 

of babies of virgins of martyr priests 

so, it is a want for love then 

red love, summer love, the kind you pick up because it will melt you, reshape you, make you a molten cross to be bent at the helm of a battered ship inching towards a lighthouse just out of reach 

let us bend to fit each other and see who shatters first 

let me see you rebuild your fractured self for another

red – the color of malleable glass of still hot ashes of the warning cardinal 

of that warning light before you strike gold