The disseminating seeds of a dying, dark tree
Birds that choke and end on these
I hold you close to my dead heart
Where once a theatre could impart
And kiss you hard, our tongues entwine
If love was hate, you would be mine
Now move inside my deathly death
And fuck me while I breathe your breath
Our souls congeal and soon arrest
(We don’t have souls, I must contest)
Resign my own fair name for yours:
We are one and we are none
Coldly.
| 
Email this Poetry
| 
Add to reading list
