I can hand life to you on a silver platter with my teeth
Clenched so tight on what I cannot speak of.
My soft-spoken aggression may not reach your ears
If you don’t listen well.
Forgive me, for I reserve my voice solely for notes.
Piercing clarity that I only grace the worthy with.
Will you serve me a romantic wrapped in gold
With tightly clenched shoulders to hold up the world?
Maybe a karat touch will sizzle my skin
In a glistening hell.
Fire swells in my diaphragm like a storm cloud
Looming over a ghost town.