You washed up from the ocean like an old bottle with a message inside.

Sandy, wet, and perfectly kept.

A curiosity I couldn’t ignore.

A glimpse into a forbidden world that I just needed to taste.

Your message struck my tongue like a blade.

Your words ripped open my rib cage and left my heart beating unprotected,

vulnerable underneath your spell of chaotic passion.

And I let you take me.

I can barely breathe as I watch you sharpen your knife,

like a warrior preparing to slay in battle.

I think about the blood that will be shed by you,

my blood.

And the fire inside me billows like smoke in the Tennessee mountains.

I would let you slit my throat so I could bleed into your veins

if it meant that I could live inside of you forever.

And you would feel the heat from my body beating inside of your own heart,

and you would never forget our passion.

And you would never forget that day you washed up to my feet,

and I drank your message out of that bottle,

and I kept you,

forever and ever.