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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Non-Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: September 20, 2018

A A A | A A A

Submitted: September 20, 2018





Angry, razor-winged butterflies slice

In panicked arcs round my tender insides

This is no beautiful love


It is night-sweat terror

loss of blood in bathroom stalls

It’s the parallel tracks running against the grain of my skin.

This is no patient love.


Second guesses for words I can’t take back.

Nothing but sure strokes of blades offer respite

And give you permenent real estate on my body

A place I can always trace, over as I miss you

This is no kind love


How did they cross my lips? 

treacherous words, frantic and transparent

waves slipping through the anonymity.

As if I misplaced the filter, years in careful making, and

Gave you the warm blood of my heart, without request. 

This is no courageous love.


Food makes me sick, tastes on my tongue feel

Like an affair.

When only your lips can satiate.

Only you can fill me.

I want to feel empty, hunger and wanting.

Dying inside from the misplaced memories and impetuous revelations.


This is no beautiful love.


© Copyright 2018 S. E. Reichert. All rights reserved.

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