Poetry Talk

New post from Comfort

Threnody of flesh

I’m close enough for your breath to rethink itself,

my fingers already drawing territories you didn’t give permission for

“don’t, stop” ,

and that’s why I keep going.

I’m not touching you to know you,

I’m touching you to see how fast you forget yourself.

Your skin warms first,

then your judgement,

and I follow that heat like instinct,

like I was born knowing exactly where you soften.

I don’t need your heart for this

only the places you defend the least,

the ones only I can feast.

He gives you his heart like a sacrifice to a goddess,

yet you kneel before me like I’m your truer altar.

You hold his love with careful hands,

Though you lick love off my sweat like it’s all you’ll ever have.

He offers you devotion,

promises carved from sincerity so clean they shine,

and still you fold into my shadow

like you’ve been waiting for darkness to touch you.

you breathe like a sinner when I’m near.

And you call this confusion,

but you know better—

you’re just choosing the fire that burns sweeter.

So why the tears now?

Why spill devotion at my feet, I’m not your husband.

I never told you to trade your heart for heat.

You

chose the way I choke you

over the way he hold you.

Don’t rewrite the story now.

Don’t dress your sins with hunger, I will feed on your weakness.

So, if, my desire floods you again,

if your body starts begging louder than your conscience,

you know where to find me.

I’ll take you to the deepest parts of yourself

and leave you empty again,

exactly why you keep coming back to me.