we speak of movies
perhaps books we have read
friends we will meet
but when no longer face-to-face
even the questions cast off
their disguised
blunt edges
we riposte sly jabs at
another life we idealize
but abandon
when we see the cracks
we speak of movies
perhaps books we have read
friends we will meet
but when no longer face-to-face
even the questions cast off
their disguised
blunt edges
we riposte sly jabs at
another life we idealize
but abandon
when we see the cracks
If you are not mine
Then do not be his
Or I shall tear asunder
That chain which binds you.
He who speaks
In forked tongue
Honeyed entrapment
Foul and black —
If only I could have
Awakened you
To truth.
Alas, in lieu
Of an impotent kiss
There is only:
Bloodshed