Siren’s Song

Move your fingers on my skin and don’t stop,
I couldn’t bear it if you did; I want you.
Claim me, taste my sin,
remind me why my soul feels like your fingertips against the tips of my collarbones. 
Against the crests of my hips.
Move your fingers. Claim me. 
Don’t you see I want to feel like something more than a wisp of grey smoke?

Listen to the voice that leaves me.
The voice that charms you into believing I am everything you want,
everything you have been searching for.
The voice that blinds you to who and what I really am.

But you don’t need to know that.
You don’t need to know that there are iron scales beneath my skin.
That there are feathers under my hair waiting to make your skin bleed.

That my words are sleek and my voice sounds like the dreams you had when you were five and the shooting star that crashed and died on your terrace floor. 

You don’t need to know that you are feeding off an illusion and I am thriving on the deception that will eventually pry your soul from the good.

All you need to do is listen. Worship.

Pray that you won’t cut yourself on the scales.

Can you look me in the eyes and tell me you are not in love with my songs about the burning gold poison that fell from my father’s lips?

You are trapped and you know it.
Even as you glance behind you and see half a bone.
Half a yellow bone left by your predecessor as a souvenir.
But oh darling, you’ve come so far.
They never survived their hunger ;
and now they’re wasted bones in a pile at the corner of your vision but you’re here at my feet, kissing my ankles and isn’t that your victory ?

We are crumbling for each other.
You- for the illusion of love and me for the illusion that I can be loved.

That all of me, can be loved. My iron scales and my smoky skin.

That you are here because you wish to be.
Not because the songs of my sadness have bolted you to my wrists.

But that is an illusion.
And it is one I will breathe into my lungs as the Truth.
I’ll let you kiss only the corner of my lips or else you will silence my song. 
And I cannot let you do that- we both know the chains will fall as my song does.
We both know you will scramble to leave and I will destroy you if you try

by Prerana Kumar

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