n  e   e  d

darkness opens the flower of nite
where the moth of need patters against your shade
your bright light drawing me near to your thoughts
your will
as it encases me strictly
with the clamps of ache
the aftershock as your clicking heels 
leave me to swim as the teeth of freedom's foe
dig deep into my cells
i suffer for you, for that raised lip which masks your pleasure
the widening of your iris as it takes me into your crevices
and leaves behind the blisters of torments
which confuse and complex desire

-poetrician