I must ask if I am bound to you,
if knowing your exact place
nestles you further into my heart.

Or were we merely predators
following invisible pheromone trails,
obvious to the ancient nature
of marking territories for the hunt.

Does that bind you always to me?

It's all the same in the end,
foreign blood splashing the ground,
prey shivering between our teeth.
our naked borders will be invoked
like a blood-signed contract.

We may prove to be nothing more
than a tangle of writhing bodies
always aching to be untied,
to remember the ghosts that give
chase long after we have come undone.

I must be inside to truly know
if I must always be bound,
to and by you forever.

If knowing my place can really
tie me tighter to your heart.

Or maybe we merely clamor after
the clarion siren call to ignite
the soul's climacteric sleep,
marked for the taking before
I can even feel the cold chains.

Does that bind me always to you?

Is it all the same in the end?

To rush through the cyclic conquest,
to be conquered by a heart's demands,
by unforgettable twined vows,
the ones that belong to you and I.

We may prove to be nothing more than
knots that were waiting to be untied,
mysteries that were solved too soon
when some other spark fascinates you.

I thought I'd be inside you forever,
bound far beyond body and soul,
seeking you like an unshakable faith,
a talisman I need not touch
in order to blindly believe in.

I thought my skin would encase runes
which would always invoke your presence,
quiet incantations that would bring you back,
grant me sight true beyond the flames.

I'll always be bound in some way to you,
waiting in this climacteric deep sleep,
wondering if knowing my place
sews me closer to your heart.