I have lost my memory for now, lost the names
And images of the ones that were once loved.
Curiously or rather not, I remember you; everything
But your name.
I know your name is unimportant, for we never said
Much to each other. We were lovers, my dear, and
Often words used to fail us. I remember the taste of
Your tongue and flesh. Often, maybe always, I was
Insatiable for you.
The days pass in attempts to recall, perhaps even
Create an identity; and the nights in love and
Longing. I only sleep to dream about you and to
Think of my hand as yours, as it violently caresses
My starved body.
I remember the tender of your thigh, the mole on
Your hip. But i digress, evocations to your unusually
Slender form will not serve my purpose. What is my
Purpose then? To make a mistress out of a lover;
Pshaw! It's time to regain the universe.
I remember, i remember the look in your eyes
When you held me close to love me. Infidelity
Has its scars. I, unfortunately, remember the astute
Barrel of a gun against my beating heart. Shame
You missed. My dearest, I forgive you all. I forgive
The look in your eyes.
The broken pieces of language that I strew around
Are not by chance; they allude to the fascism of my
My spineless heart. I think the word 'fuck' would
Do some justice to the tragedy at hand here.
Perhaps.
Let me die in this lie, let me bury you alive. Do Gods exist?
They do, in my heart, in the pit of my belly; they do. Would
They be generous enough to give me a chance, a lifetime
Of lucidity, in Lucy's arms. I feel bellows of silent laughter
Raging against my womb.
I don't think I am reliable anymore. Delirious, delusional,
devastated, devoid, demented, and finally, desecrated.
I am out of D's now, perhaps I will die now. You shouldn't
Have shot me in the heart. I must confess, I don't remember
Much. Apologies.
For the illusion of clarity, click here. I am at a loss to explain this deviance, ah! another adjective close to my heart, and since i am at a loss; I'll leave it.
And images of the ones that were once loved.
Curiously or rather not, I remember you; everything
But your name.
I know your name is unimportant, for we never said
Much to each other. We were lovers, my dear, and
Often words used to fail us. I remember the taste of
Your tongue and flesh. Often, maybe always, I was
Insatiable for you.
The days pass in attempts to recall, perhaps even
Create an identity; and the nights in love and
Longing. I only sleep to dream about you and to
Think of my hand as yours, as it violently caresses
My starved body.
I remember the tender of your thigh, the mole on
Your hip. But i digress, evocations to your unusually
Slender form will not serve my purpose. What is my
Purpose then? To make a mistress out of a lover;
Pshaw! It's time to regain the universe.
I remember, i remember the look in your eyes
When you held me close to love me. Infidelity
Has its scars. I, unfortunately, remember the astute
Barrel of a gun against my beating heart. Shame
You missed. My dearest, I forgive you all. I forgive
The look in your eyes.
The broken pieces of language that I strew around
Are not by chance; they allude to the fascism of my
My spineless heart. I think the word 'fuck' would
Do some justice to the tragedy at hand here.
Perhaps.
Let me die in this lie, let me bury you alive. Do Gods exist?
They do, in my heart, in the pit of my belly; they do. Would
They be generous enough to give me a chance, a lifetime
Of lucidity, in Lucy's arms. I feel bellows of silent laughter
Raging against my womb.
I don't think I am reliable anymore. Delirious, delusional,
devastated, devoid, demented, and finally, desecrated.
I am out of D's now, perhaps I will die now. You shouldn't
Have shot me in the heart. I must confess, I don't remember
Much. Apologies.
For the illusion of clarity, click here. I am at a loss to explain this deviance, ah! another adjective close to my heart, and since i am at a loss; I'll leave it.
