the inferno

I had forgotten
carnality

until I traced
the curve of your spine
with my closed eyelids;

nibbled on your shoulder-blades
til wings sprouted out
and my tongue danced
with the feathery tips
of Lucifer

and I was wrong
to ask if you were a demon
(because you
are nothing
but a fallen angel)

my fingers
searched for salvation
in your chest,
but I
looked for love
in all the wrong places

because the last time
I checked between your legs
there was only empty space;
blank pages for other people
to write on

and yet I find
cathartic emancipation
in your hatred

because I could only ever love
someone as broken as me