The curse beneath the olive tree

He found me
in the dark
And told me
i looked like
something he'd buried
in another life

he did not ask
for my name
he asked
if i would bleed pretty

i mistook
the way he watched me
for softness
but it was hunger
sharp and ancient
older than god
And just as cruel

when he said "I love you"
he meant:
i will ruin you slowly
And you will thank me
for the privilege

i gave him
every version of myself
the soft one
the sharp one
the starving one
he kept them all
in jars
like dead butterflies
he never named

he never touched me
like a person
he touched me
like a ritual
like i was something
he could summon
And sacrifice
in the same breath

his kiss
tasted like a spell
spoken backward
it unmade me
unstitched me
until i was
just a woman
on her knees
begging for the knife
to be gentle
this time...

i told myself
this was love
but it was a haunting
he lived inside my ribs
like a locked door
no one dared open

he made me
a mausoleum
And called it
home

i don't know
if he ever loved me
but he ruined me
so exquisitely
it felt
like worship.