This body was not
built to love

hands made to grip to claw to pull to tear
to hold to climb to evade
the tender slow sweet gentleness
an added bonus
tangential to purpose

mouths structured to bite teeth designed to cut
tongue capable of making sound, signal for help
but
two mouths softly moving together, making shapes in the dark
pure coincidence
happenstance
And those tiny white saws
partially hidden in a grin
is mere circumstantial evidence

No this body has bigger plans
(or lesser, depending on where you're standing)
and if put on trial
could and would only respond
with the flames that are subdued in polite company
in favor of lowered voices and mild handshakes


But right now
these hands feel only capable of softness
this mouth good-intentioned, only willing to make nice
and Isweartogod
it feels so natural and profoundly deep
making echos in my core
you'd think these bodies were built to love