Anatomia

"This is the closest I've ever been to the inside of a human body"
She said as she prodded my arteries
But she's been in my head
And made home in my heart
Her bed there is messy
And the pillows smell like sweat
And perfume
And pheromones

Black sheets silhouette her figure
Against the pale glow of her skin
I am but a moth, and she is the moon
I draw a breath to bide my time
But even breathing is a temporary function
I retreat to a nest of dead flowers and bobby pins
Woven with bloody fingers and broken nails