The Grasping Talons of Desire

I want to cling To you The way vultures do Circling in On every movement Until the last exhale in winter’s air Replacing bed sheets With blankets of Frosted covered grass Opening up to me Slowly Like a flower at the end of March Almost as if The exposure Tickled your rib cage Tell me About the the things Your eyes have held on to As the canvas Of light blue Admixes to obsidian Over the Taut inexpressive Coat your skeleton wears I want to cling To you The way black widows do Circling in On every movement Until the last tug against a web Replacing bed sheets With blankets That feel like silk Becoming closed off to me Slowly Like daisies when the sun goes down I want to be Indented In your mind Like a child After Their first bee sting Cautious of my presence But still wish You could touch my face