An Unbearable Insanity I want to trace your eyes with my fingers so they sting with the oils of my essence. I want you to feel the pain I do when you leave in the mornings. I want to reach inside and pull out your throat so I can see what makes your voice so rough with the troubles of what you've seen and what you've been through. I want to tickle your sides with my calloused palms so I can feel you writhe and squirm with the violation of your space. I want to tug your hair so hard you see stars. And I want you to do it to me. I want to see your lips open in the groan that never comes. I want to hold your pain, your pleasure, in my stomach. I want you to feel the separation as I do: an unbearable form of insanity.
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