For Those Who Kiss With Fear They Might Never Again

By Navya Kumar

darling,

velveted martyr, have you ever loved the executioner

ax swing of love at first concept

how a child does

rawness,

razors against your numbing lips, biting off an acrid mask

as if the sudden strike of damp, glistening metals

a bend that shatters into my stomach, the butterflies have deserted me to wasps

they scream for you, hoarse and whiling

If you can grant me just one last wish,

conceal me in your silked sheets, like a perfect crime

bless me with shut eyes

to rake unblemished skin with devotion

so we run, to the altar in the moon only a night after

if they catch us us, they will kill us

but first they must catch us.

four uncalloused hands grasping at one another

joined by licking candle wicks

trachea stained with february's red wax

you breathe through my lungs, and stow my mind

in your brethren’s soaked sheath

what makes you feel more alive than the pinks and blushes of death?

learn to adore the intimacy of organs,

Beating blood vessels until they beak,

shatter into the dust on your perfume bottle

it stings the throbbing chambers of your chest

we’ll never exhale,

because we’ve caught each other’s breaths

my right to die belongs to cupped palms

yours until the end of time,

until ours.

take another sip of my mothers chalice,

we will drown in a downpour that began before our birth

too many of our brothers came to such a spot

until in our forefather’s graves they might’ve choked

now I’ve learned to kneel

covered in heavy reds and banquet curtains

blood that has only ever been drawn by these pale fingers,

covered, you, you, you

owned hands stroke rosebuds,

velvet catching us on thorns

white with ivory, the purity of youth in lifeless cheeks

Only humans could portray young love as god--

No, it is the devil

The devil.

The world turns to wine

there’s nothing left to say

By Navya Kumar