Quivers

I woke this morning to vibrations.

Movement, quivering. A trembling step, an electric current grasped and held, coursing through.

The air bites through the trees, angrily whipping in the predawn glow. I can feel the danger, just the right amount, in the groan of the branches and whirlwinds of dead leaves rising from the ground.

Steady. Breathe, steady. My heart is pulsing faster than it should, my breath coming in shallow gasps. My hands are steady while my bones shake. Anticipation. This is a razor-thin edge and my feet are fluttering with desire to dance.

Good thing you like knives then.

Quivers. I am constraining myself inside my skin and shaking with the effort. Grit your teeth; there is friction here, and words taste sulfuric. Bite back the torrents that would set the world ablaze and exhale smoke instead.

Tremble, and blame it on the building cold as though these tremors come from outside and not within. Wrap up warmer and pretend you are not balancing on a precipice. Enough wind will feed the fire; too much will put it out, and my hair whips haphazardly, a flame dancing recklessly along my skin. My heart is a muscle and stretches accordingly; it takes up space inside my chest and strains against my ribcage. My bones trap my muscles as my skin imprisons bone; I am built from layers and layers of constraint and restraint until I seem almost put-together.

No one sees the trembles. No one sees the ways I strain from the inside out, tearing through muscle, shredding through skin to unleash (and that is the sense, the one of wanting to unleash, of feeling that something rise a little closer to the surface and yearn to be free). Something raw, something feral, something just a little more dangerous than you expected.

I will ravish you, leave you sinking to your knees in bliss and agony. What lives in me does not comprehend mercy, and when I drop all sense of reticence, there is no turning back. I will devour you, piece by piece, until I have learned your soul and found the places that make you weak. I will draw them out in darkness and burn them in the light. Can you withstand the heat of a phoenix or hold the gaze of a wolf?

I am quivering as the dawn breaks over the trees, the reckless danger in me receding quietly with the darkness. But do not catch me here unaware. Here, I am stronger than you dared to dream or conceived to be possible. Here, I am in the heart of my own power, unfiltered by shame and sense of propriety. Here, I whisper words like satin that heat your blood and burn in your cheeks. Hold my hand; it is no longer me that shakes. I feel your quiver, your excitement, your thrill. Come dash into the darkness with me; I will do my best to keep you alive.