You know your words cut.
You sharpen them just for me,
aimed carefully
Your tongue bleeds over me
feeling every scar you make with pleasure

(As I take your tongue
I feel it coil around my hand,
slithering down, seeking hold
I grab it and squeeze tight
feeling it squirm, hearing the strangled screams
Pulling
Tugging
Ripping the foul knife from its home
Words drip down your throat
dying and red
Blood on your hands now
You fall)

But all I can do is stand
silent
Letting each scar open, watching...