Vulnerable

The word hangs thick in the air in our bedroom.
Superstition takes us over and we never say its name.
To call it out is to shatter our equilibrium.
We’re balanced so carefully, so casually.
The ice is thin; the end is near.

Closeness doesn’t suit us, we both know the risks.
Still, you bare your neck to me,
Daring me to bite; willing me to kiss.
We fit together well, too well.
Broken edges locked tight.
Handle with care; sharp edges.
Twin warning signs.

It’s the view from an autopsy table, chest cavity open.
You stand over me and cut me down to bone.
I stay still, I let you, I trust you.
I stand in the flames, I hold my head underwater.
You dress the burns, you dry my skin.
We don’t talk about it. We don’t have to, don’t need to.

The world thrives off of gradients, of chaos.
We give in to entropy and give ourselves to the universe.
We aren’t clear cut, we’re mixed and knotted and melted,
Thrown together like waves to a cliff,
Collision after collision; cohesion to adhesion.

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Originally written in 2016.