Novel Longing

Take me with you into the bath
the water so hot
hives rise from some dark epitome—

read my Braille with your scalloped fingers,
all the secrets of my skin revealed
in every shiver and chill,

all the inky secrets of my soul
bleeding
through my thin vellum—

grip me like the Harlequin
a hungry wife devours, roll my paper
back into a tube, crack my spine—

take me with you into the bath
and drop me in your waters
‘til I swell into a mass of unturnable pages—

Make me this eternally
open book in your hands—
possess me,
if that’s what it takes for you
to never put me down.