You satiate me.
You are the heavens in these skeletal arms, you are the cosmos in these shaking hands. You are saccharine starlight, so sweet, so divine, so good. I could pull the true skies apart – leave you unscathed and instead reach my talons upwards, tear open those celestial bodies and make the heavens themselves weep… but those crystalline tears would be flavorless compared to you: mere water to your liquid gold.
Everything you are consumes me… and it seems only fitting as I consume you, too.
When you’re here.
When you’re not.
Your radiant luster clings to my palms long after you’ve gone, your seductive sheen gets stuck under my nails – evidence that I’ve clawed just a bit too deeply, that I’ve taken just a bit too much.
It’s never too much.
I dip my own fingers in my mouth and taste the lingering notes of rapture.
I lick my palms clean and drink every remaining morsel of paradise.
Soon, too soon, achingly soon… my palette is cleansed, my tongue, dry.
I’m left thirsty again.