You are a creature of frailty
You do not know shame
You do not know hunger or hate
Come into the bed with me
Books are cradled in your thin arms
My slip falls in silken folds
All I want are the words on the page
Flowered into voices
Your delicate fingers turn the brittle pages
And the words, which I do not understand
Flow from your lips to soothe my scorn
And does my strange silence bemuse you?
Darling I only want to hear the story
For it allows me to live a thousand lives
So give to me these dreams
You are mine for now
Read to me softly, and then scream
Bloom the words alive for me
I am hungry as a thief
And I will take your life just to listen to births of fire,
and wretched deaths of lovers.