Wounds of desire

No feeling but your cold hands.

Exploring the numbness of my body,

that couldn't feel anybody.

That was the moment,

that I could feel more than nothing.

It was a feel, a need,

that I had to release.

For you to touch me,

punch me,

cut me,

devour me.

Leave me.

Wounds open bleeding everywhere but your hands,

feeling nothing but the pain of my own desire.