Real love is life threatening 

It’s not serene, sweet, dream love

It’s not romantic, rainbow love

No

True love is torture 

Gut wrenching pain

Hands and knees, love 

Need it to breathe, love 

It’s enough to put you away, love 

But never pull you away, love 

It’s masochistically addictive 

It titillates and irritates

Possesses every bit 

Until you have a fit

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I am keeping a secret with myself

for myself,

clutching it within like a bird’s claw,

the carrier pigeons have been shot,

guess I forgot to warn the men with rifles,

suppose it wasn’t a clay pigeon after all.

My mouth is a gold crested envelope,

my lips are licked with wax:

they are an inked kiss,

the pout is the stamp,

my mind is the scroll:

bound and bound,

re...

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My hands are patterned by ambitions,

these lines on my skin are wishes,

palms marked like the sky after a shooting star

and shining when they interlace with your fingers,

your skin's wrinkles and crinkles.

The crevices of our skin do not match or meet

the way coloured paths on a map synchronise and intercross,

reaching destinations.

We are separate pieces of meat

but

...

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