Work Text:
You strode into my little world and broke
Its bounds, and all my precepts tossed and splayed
Across the grass, the little world unmade
In light of love enough to clutch, to choke
the throat. Even as you wove your words and spoke
Of teases, of trite games on me to be played,
I perceived myself by my hungry heart betrayed,
And all my discipline gone up in smoke,
As you are now, of course. Gone are the days
When I cherished breakage, for such is touch—
The hand that wrecked yet set my self ablaze,
Where amidst ash crept forth a self anew,
Who sought that hand to hold within its clutch,
And who is destroyed again by lack of you.