Paranoid

I have dreams that shake the foundations of
the buildings that enjamb upon
this ground that I am walking on.
Quiet, reserved I could only make you
come by whispering my secrets in your
ear since you scratch yours out on my back
and what I hear could give me a heart attack.
Eponymous, anonymous...hypothosis?
I can't hear you and can only read you by
the ink that wears itself on your skin,
the stories you won't tell me.
Free verse; no charge for this next line,
Show me yours I'll show you mine.
Fingers grip the hips that rock the
cock that presses in my back now stop:
I can't take it anymore.
No one's voice tells me anything.
But not everyone reads body braile.