wired in

it is no terrible act
when you fit so well
in the cradle
of my fist

it is no terrible word
the one that starts
with me
and ends with you
(on your knees)

it is no terrible promise
rope, a bed, and you
bared
wet
mine.

it is no terrible price
we pay
to have it

but the hunger I harbor
for you
is terrible
and great
and smolders
like the acts, the words, the promises, and the price.

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