Miyerkules, Hunyo 20, 2012


I have sores all over me:
They scar my fragile surface
Like constellations
Spanning the universe
Of my feeble flesh.
I gasp and sigh.
I hear the delirious
Whispers from my thighs.
These are not moans
But the sole sounds of my bones
Breaking into mourning.
Maybe I should be glad
That something still feeds on me.
I want this love to die
But it cannot be.
It is the disease
Which runs alongside

The potent malady in my being.
Compromised I will forever be.
But with you, I find the strength
To make myself immune 
Against all this insanity.

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