thrown acast
by your
severing felicity
you've not any
idea of
what you do to me
you are no
inimical being
wallowing in sorrow
though your face
leads others
to believe it so
your soul is
sanguine even
in the shadowy depths
you could not
be my fiend
if you caused my death
let me have
just once
an ice cold clash
our cold hearts
pressed close
to coalesce into ash
sparks erupt from
between us
i see them in your eyes
let us commit
altruism
for this light satisfies
my inner
arsonist.
YOU ARE READING
ma mort et ma vie.
Poetryand in him doth lie my death and my life. a collection of poetry featuring art by gustav klimt.
