On the lonely nights

Flickering candle sticks can whisper you know?
Their spines bleed raw in the open air
To say
When bodies meet in the dark they will be seen but not kept,
like waking up and realizing you were both fast asleep in your brain again,
The candle extinguishing the dream,
staring straight into the lonely night,
Conversating over histories far before this room,
where she ripped skin from fingers who dared try to sedate her,
Vivaciously whipping her tongue from wick to wax certain of her near end,
But
The dark holds tongues too,
If you close your eyes the stars will fill your mouth,
And the crescent moon will come close to the way
Her bottom lip pressing against your own felt,
Ripping every mutilated sin from your jaw as you pray to her,
And the chilled breeze from an open window
will kiss the flame of the candle to death,
Hushing her,
And wind will wrap its arms around your naked chest,
Embracing so tightly it will press through skin past the organs,
Until the fingers slowly smash the flickering heart,
Laying it over the incinerated corpse in the sheets,
In Silence.