this rough beast that is our love
lurches through us still
the rasping fur scrapes us
clean
scouring the tissue of our care
the muscles of our hearts
the blood of our desires
reconfiguring the soul's landscape

but this beast is never satisfied
never stops to rest
never pauses to let heal
never sleeps so we may just exhale
never breaks from our chains of of never touching
never kissing
never feeling the rasp of our skin against each other
never the tastes of our bodies melding into one sweet smell
never the cries
never the warm curving together
never the wetness of acceptance and desire
never

This rough trampling beast that is now our love
wears us like skin
and we are too defeated
to kill it
or
set it free