Consecration

Too much of silence can kill
It tends to deafen you
Swallow, eat you up
As you try to undress
In front of darkness
His prying eyes, roving
Touching, his gaze darting
At every corner of your flesh
As your guilty conscience
Undoes the final garment
And you give up, all
Pretensions of shame, sad
Civility, and prepare
For a lewd night
Feeling like cheap flesh
Dusty, musky and wet
Your sagging breasts, defying
The warmth of your breath
Your large liquid eyes
And you prepare for
One more claustrophobic
Mundane, obscene, heavy
Moment of eternity
To engulf you
To eat you up

Too much of silence can kill
Only if you wish to live