LOVE IS A CARNIVOROUS SAINT

1.
Time has woven a long line between us: am not only talking of distance but the days in which silence prevailed between us. You, half moon and half poison, killing me and nurturing me.. how are you? 
I think of you, and a prayer fills inside me, throbbing against my spin and cold against my heart. This is when I realize that I would sacrifice myself for you. Sometimes I take light in my hands and try to hold it, only to make myself a fool. May be that's the metaphor for us? You the light, the mighty sun and me, a foolish Icarus?
That reminds me of Hozier singing :
"Hold me, carry me slowly, my sunlight
Each day, you'd rise with me
Know that I would gladly be
The Icarus to your certainty
Oh, my sunlight, sunlight, sunlight
Strap the wing to me
Death trap clad happily
With wax melted, I'd meet the sea
Under sunlight, sunlight, sunlight"
//Sunlight, Hozier//
I am still peeling my pomegranate heart , in case you return to a burning home with an empty stomach. I am still warming water in case you want to wash your hands. When I wrote the word "wash", the image that came to my mind was of the Mary Magdalene near the feet of Jesus. May be because am a sinner and you, my lord. Enjoy the banquet, but will you let me in if i wait near the door, to wash your feet with my tears, and wipe those pretty legs with my hair, and to kiss the.. O kiss them.. and perfume with ointment from a glass jar? Will you pull me closer and devour me, or ask me to leave?
If you ask me to leave, I will carry that words, even that words dearly: like a bruise of honour....
In the next life, make me a tattoo near your ankle. So that I can watch the way you walk through and be with you, without being a burden. So that I can be something you love. So that I can kiss your ankles, softly and always.
In my next life, please be something that fills my bloodied mouth, something that splits me open.. Please pin me down, dig your fingers in and pry open my heart. Please move your tongue over my ribs, open my bones and suck out everything inside me. Eat me, consume me, devour me... Swallow me, and let me melt inside you.. Quench your thirst with my tears and blood... So that you can be fulfilled, without any hunger, and any thirst. So that i can move through your veins, flowing into the dark abyss of your soul.. Please smear my memory on your hunger.. 

2.
Your silence kills me. But, who am I to demand a word of reply from you? Who am I to ask for a look of recognition from you? Who am I to tell you not to ignore me? How dare a snail to speak to a flower? How dare a pauper look at goddess?
The desire of wanting you swells inside me , clumsily and shamelessly , seems dangerous to me. Like the breast of a mother, like an agonising pleasure, like a ripple on the heart of water. I choke when I think of you.
I think of a moment when our eyes will be so close that they turn into a single cyclone that will question this world. And the pheromones between us will pull the gravitational force parallelly that the metallic wings of earth will be silent. We will become two lone stars exiled from constellation and will sleep on the grasslands of jupiter. The luminous echo of moonlight will fall over our skin and when the moon tries to rob your glow, we will hide in the caves of saturn. I will give you my canine teeth, my saturday nights and sundays. I will give you my honey suckle comb and heat dizzied eyes. I will give you the books where I found our parallels and songs that reminded me of you. I will let you swallow me as a whole, the way a devotee is eaten by god , so that I can be yours. I will let you keep me in your wild pockets and tame me as your kitty, so can I can hold your melancholy in my fragile bones .I dream of a moment when you will hold me close, taking everything you want from me. At the very moment I realize the futility of such thoughts: what will you want from me? Why will you want me? Who am I, other than a dirty cicada in your garden? Why should the archer ask the arrow about a poem? Against better judgment I want you to want me as I want you....
May be you can wear my jawbone as your shoes. And use my hair as your mat. Or score your name in my shoulder blades and use it as an aesthetic key. 
What ever future holds, let me tell you : am absolutely sure that you will be haunting me forever. Like the softness of a ferns head. Like the voice of a river of heaven. Like the purity of a child's milk teeth. Like the ferocity of lovemaking. And I will hold my innocence and my sins in my mouth, waiting for you taste them. ..
Until then let me speak to you the way a garden toad talk to a mermaid....


3.
I want you to eat me, the way a medieval god gobble down the prayers of a whore. Because, sanity rests between your throat and I want to be sane. I clean my calloused feet, for you to gobble upon and polish my words for you to digest. I want to turn myself into your favorite flavour. Because your teeth is shaped in form of love. I beg you to scrape your fingers against my body and eat me down to marrow. This is my devotion. 

4.
My fairy tale,
The shade of clouds are surprising me. Today they turned black, and heavy with emotions. And I listened to them with my eyes closed. And the day passed, cold pressed in rain's bossom. And now, the might night unfolds, its peacock eyes, empty and comforting. The world is getting  quitter , but not my world. I turn into a vase so soft, with blood evaporating through osmosis. May be am feeding the blind angels whom we can't see through our eyes. The drool of hope blackens my lazy breath, in between.I can't sleep, and so I write to you... You are the panacea on my feverish nights. You,who have flowers in mouth while I have a desert.
You may find me disgusting if I tell you what is going in my mind right now. Or do you want to listen to my sins and purify me, my lord? Do you want to cleanse me? Or will you kick me out with your pretty shoes?
My hands are moon bruised because I am writing about you. Your absence bothers me like a gun missing its freedom. The blurriness being alive is not enough sometimes.. I wish to share my purple afternoons with you, hunting the wicked ghosts of past without fear. The atomism of this life won't bother me anymore then. I will swim in the chlorine water of sadness then, without any regrets. I will walk through grey pavements and meet God, whom I will swallow as whole. I will name the thunderstorm after you, and rainbows too. I will lend the smoke wings of angels, in case you want to meet me again...
I wait in my kitchen and if you ask me, I will turn into a slice of bread... I will turn into a white mulberry ripened under snow. Or a leaf stalks you can chew for fun.
The yearning to hear back from you grows inside me, like an oak tree, with its roots in my gut. To have your velvet words addrssing me has become the purpose of my life. I am animal hungry for your attention, my lion teeth starving for whatever you can offer. I am nauseous that you are ignoring me. My torment is my adoration... and you are the prayer filling my ears. Look at me, de-mask me, talk to me..
I beg, i beg, i beg....

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