I would give one thousand bleeding kisses

to be able to saturate in my own contemplations.

Free of their ambiguity and my own hypocrisy that leaked through my red leather skin.

To close my eyes and breathe in the sharp beauty of vulnerability.

To hear complete monologues of innocence without guilt.

To obfuscate perturbation; both mine and yours,

without shame.

and to rival authenticity itself would be a treasure unbreakable as it is.

 A pulchritudinous demise it would be.

Leaving me lifeless but laughing.

Cold yet vibrant.

Living out the story that was written for me long ago by a man and his pen.