Degenerates in Love

 are we so very much alike that we can know
each other’s sins without confessing them?

will you follow me to a place of no light,
where pain is worshipped like a golden cross,
and a bleeding, nameless thing howls at the moon –

when I want to observe stained beauty,
marked with the prints of vanished lovers,
a scarlet mouth for pleading, eyes leaving tears
as tokens of gratitude…

when I want this for no earthly reason
but that I want it at that moment,
will you remove your robe
and stand before me naked –

when I need inspiration, will you hang from the
beam, bound in the cold, remorseless chains,
wretched and trembling, until such sweet torment
is painted into my memory –

will you suffer the whip and the bamboo cane,
wear the bruises like stars branded to your skin –

if I must hurt you to prove my love,
will you let me…