These hands the color of your blood serve only
as a warning. There are knots that might slip.
The entirety of the night sky exploding around you,

stars glittering in the red shift of brake

light’s squeal.  Every edge a kiss that will draw
blood. I cannot extricate you from the torn
desire of steel or the perfect pink acceptance
of your splintered organs. There is no confusion
between desire and salvation.

.