Spin

Floating in an effervescent sea of thistledown
Rocked by your infectious, fevered pulse
Washed by waves of black ribbon
That extract all thought
All emotion
All sense of being
Leaving only a body
In an ecstasy of pain
Reaching, reaching, reaching
Never quite enough.
Jumping, always waiting
For you to catch me in your brittle arms.
You never will, will you?
Not until I've already splintered on the smoking ground.
Twist me out from your spindled tongue
Or send me shooting up your spidered veins
Make me a part of something beautiful
Anything that isn't me.