My Kind Of Love

By MJ Dally

My kind of Love:

Pinch me like a fruit,

I am pliant like the lies

in our truths;

I can get hurt, I’m scared of it

I am the grand colors of a bird

in taxidermy, a sight outside,

million little deaths inside.

I am a tender thing,

burrow under the skin

of my collar bone, dive

into my greedy heart,

I crave love, lie to me

I am special.

Tell me you’ll regard me

like a blue lotus upon

a lake in your being,

guarded on all sides in

mandalas of glass and light;

make vows in the trumpet

of your unsure voice,

pretending you need me.

Let us birth our pain,

sharp and succulent

like a cactus,

our troika of caramel agony,

our pricks smelling of life.

Call me with pencil lines

across the summer sky, black smudges,

graphite dots,

curves like edges of a withering rose.

Meet me like danger

amidst elephant grass,

cut me with blades of your words,

then lick

my wounds

and tell me they’re yours,

as into the sea

an embarrassed sun resigns.

I am a kaleidoscope

of moons and shadows,

spin me in your breath,

hold me in your lips

like a secret too good to share,

I’ll fold myself to

the shame of your urge.

Wear me like an old cloth,

crumbled but proud

upon your body,

drenched dirty in the sweat

of the love I want.

When you get hidden by the night,

allow my fingers

to crawl like snakes

searching everything,

the neck of the sky,

a rusty world,

a sooty bookshelf of time,

a catacomb of some European saint,

for the moment I dared you

to treat me like a promise

that you’d keep for life.

By MJ Dally