the room is deep silence thick as silk brittle razor kisses i reach for her wintry smile full of ice the rain in her hair like slivers of broken glass her eyes are flowers blooming she shows me the wounds around her eyes the mirror is her altar she worships there nightly her eyes are new-born constellations dark & secret they are the eyes of empty rooms of black water of dark sunlight her hands reach for me empty & white they are pale dreams the braille gestures of her spidery limbs hands of silk her touch a vortex of light her voice calling for me is soft as dust her kisses are black cherries & dark chocolate soft spice fruit-damp her words are velvet dragging over ice i stroke her like a cat she burns beneath the smoke how sharply she screams how she falls between the stars the pearl-rain of her tears in our dark room empty but for the crimson of candles pensive starlight the metal is rusty, cold i know a fear of knives & fire i drink her darkness like threads of blood the pull of pleasure the crack of mouths, the red of wounds the poison of her eyes