[Your Voice]
I came to drown,
not knowing what I asked for.
Your voice was salt
carving hymns into my ribs.
You looked at me
and I forgot my name
only yours remained,
etched in water,
in want.
[Her Voice]
You were already sinking
when you found me.
Don't pretend it was my song
you were chasing ruin
long before I sang it.
I only gave your darkness
a rhythm to follow.
And you danced,
barefoot, bleeding,
begging me to make it hurt deeper.
[Your Voice]
Yes.
I begged.
And you answered
with the slow violence of your tongue,
your hands that wrote scripture
on my skin.
I let you hollow me out,
and still I whispered,
"More."
[Her Voice]
You say let,
but you never had a choice.
You saw the ocean in my eyes
green, infinite, merciless
and stepped in
like a fool with open wrists.
What did you think I was?
Softness? Redemption?
[Your Voice]
I thought you were the cure
to a hunger I couldn't name.
I thought your ruin
would complete mine.
I didn't know love could feel
like drowning in fire,
or that pain could be holy
when it came from your lips.
[Her Voice]
I never lied.
I told you I would break you.
You heard "belong."
I said "burn."
You heard "forever."
You wanted a lover
but I was a storm
dressed in skin.
You wanted to be touched
I wanted to devour.
[Together]
And we did.
In moonless rooms
and violent silences,
in whispers so sharp
they left bruises.
We devoured each other
not with grace,
but with gravity.
You pulled me in
like I was breath.
I pulled you down
like I was truth.
And we drowned
not for love
but for the ache
of being seen
by something just as broken
and just as hungry.