...you i suck my blood
between the gaps of my teeth,
and that you could taste it?
i have told you, i am no longer holy.
i am no longer an innocent lamb with rosary-leash hugging my head,
with a pink cross groping my neck,
with five statues of Jesus placed under my desk.
i am slowly becoming someone whom I loathe to become.
i might bruise your lips. dirt your faith.
take your sacred limb of grace.
but I still want to reach your eyes.
bound between the spaces of your fingers and creep on top of your knees.
twenty-eighth of october, you are laying on my bed.
would you still want to kiss me, if I tell you i suck my blood
between the gaps of my teeth,
and that you could taste it.
