Burnt Black

I met you on a staircase to nowhere

Both of us headed in the wrong direction

You looked like morning before the curtains are drawn

I was a quiet bedroom with a window that just won’t close

Love is a funny word. It has only the meaning you gift it

You said it didn’t exist

And I believed you

What color are your wrists?

Mine are white. They never see the light

I’ve never raised my hands to the heavens

Never had the strength. Always had the desire

Yours are burnt black

They face God the moment you wake up

They face God in your sleep as you mumble my name under your breath

You said you were never made to be owned

Never to be touched

Never to be loved

And yet you cry when I walk out of a room

Curl up against me when I walk back in

You were always made to be loved

To be touched

To be owned

Never by me

Always by yourself