The ache between

Some nights desire feels like a disaster.

A beautiful one.

Like lightning finding water,
like a match struck too close to gasoline.

He kisses me,
and every dark thing inside me
wakes up hungry.

Not for destruction.

For surrender.

To have someone replace
The pleasure from the silver razor
As it causing red droplets
From fresh cut flesh.

For the sweet ache
of being completely undone
by someone who knows exactly where to touch my soul.