hate // gratification

take a shoelace and
weave it between your fingertips
a sleek end now a bulbous stump
a trail of footprints
left amidst a nest of constriction

a pink hue makes room
makes room for the pithy and pale
drain away the vibrancy of flesh
imbue with the beige shade of life
in stasis
white white asphyxiation

but pressure points
the harder we force ourselves upon them
the more we reap in pleasure
sensations
that we go back to
numbness
that we retreat to
suffocation
that we delve into

how much i would like to gnaw
at you accursed thread
but how much i would give
of myself
to have you around my neck
tighened
sucking me of bile
filling me with breath