You are wonderful like annihilation. Simply the possibility of you draws my knuckles white. I needn't bother with a divine being. I have you and your excellent mouth, your hands clutching me, the nails leaving unfelt wounds, your hot breath on my neck. The essence of your salivation. The obscurity is our own.

The evenings have a place with us. All that we do is mystery. Nothing we do will ever be comprehended; we will be dreaded and kept well far from. It will be the stuff of legend, unending talk and boundless motivation for the overcome of heart. It's you and me in this room, on this floor. Past life, past ethical quality. We are sparkling creatures painted in moonlit sweat shine. Our eyes swing to gems and all that we do is a case of unconstrained flawlessness. I have been holding up all my life to be with you.

My heart hammers against my ribs when I think about the butchered evenings I spent everywhere throughout the world holding up to feel your touch. The time I destroyed while I held up like a man doing a lifelong incarceration. Presently you're here and all that we touch detonates, blasts into sprout or consumes to cinder. History atomizes and nullifies itself with our each mutual breath. I require you like life needs life. I need you terrible like a cataclysmic event. You are all I see. You are the only one I need to know.