“This is how we loved.
Not with mouths,
but with minefields.
We were two bodies starving—
digging through dirt
on the raw of our hands.
I never touched you like
waltzes in moonlight;
I touched like rabid dogs;
like forks in electrical sockets
and I’m sorry for that.
And you: a forgotten era.
You, who crawled
on your belly toward the light.
You, who ate the sun
to keep yourself shining.
You were scared of the dark
and I was scared of the dark
inside myself.
I sucked the light from
between your teeth
and left you a dying star
in an unnamed constellation.
I walked up the axis of the earth—
mud beneath my nails,
blood on my chin.
I met the moon halfway
and told her all about
the way I used to feel
when you would kiss me.
She’s still the only one who knows.
I took your light,
I’m sorry.
I didn’t know I had one of my own.”
-
Mercury and Mars, by Ashe Vernon (via latenightcornerstore)
Published on November 01, 2015 23:00