FILTHY CLAWS

Burnt matches.

My lover's a god; that's what I tell him all the time;
His skin is soft&
in a strange way,
it constantly smells like love and burnt matches.
-that's how I imagined the smell of war;
My lover's a god; he hates it when I tell him that;
He told me the same joke twice a couple days ago and I laughed way harder than the first time.
He's not the ordinary type
he notices everything.
He told me about the way my head
automatically tilts back every time I laugh
and even saw the love hidden in the back of my small amber eyes.
He's a different breed.
sometimes I look at him in awe and I swear he's not human
He solved all my sleep problems;
he started reading me ancient tales, some of them as old as time.
He even fights off my bad dreams.
I came across a lot of kings and brave men in this life, (just like the ones in the stories he always reads me)
I refused to bow down to every single one of them
Now I know why. It s cause
My lover's a god; they fade to dust when I look at him.
He makes me feel like I'm made out of honey.
I forgot the taste of dirt and anger.
When his lips touched mine for the first time,
I forgot how to breathe.
I felt my face turning crimson red. I felt my lungs exploding into a billion tiny pieces. They felt insignificant. I felt my heart pounding, screaming to get out of my chest. I felt strange. I ran away. Electricity filled my whole body. It was hard for me to kiss him after that. I could tell he was out of this realm.
You're a god, my love;
You bite with the same mouth that you kiss with
You promised me you'll never raise your voice at me again;
Instead of screams I hear thunderstorms and earthquakes and ancient winds
coming to get me.
You make the world shatter and shake.
But there's no need for that anymore.
You did it,
You somehow managed to soften the lion.
Keep your voice down, my love, keep reading me those stories, you're still a god.