Thoughts like clockwork.
You are the only thing that twists around my head, like the chill that winds its ways along the corridors of a brain that’s flashing with instant images. The mad beauty of you forms through vasodilation into dewdrops onto skin, past wishes of previous love. And my brain writhes with the olden enchantment and heart clenches through it all.

Why do I do this to myself? Wind you from the back. Until you are dead and so closed inside, until you are interwoven into me. Force myself, heat of a heart into your chilling claws. I want you and you bittersweet anguish and enchantment. You and your grabbing hands that cry out with a nervous shaking abandon. You alive.