Monday, February 7, 2011

'Tell me that you Love me.', 'I Love you.'

ransom love letters drip
so candidly pouring out in lies - like tar
tangled amoung all this pining
insipid letters of stipulation
compelling her
virginal mind against pure body.
(an obligation)

in isolation decaying promises rot.
apathetically unrequited,
rendering repetition, as it were.
cradled deeply in an idle coffin
in this deranged hazy light
- oblivion
however twisted. we are happy in here.
drowning silently though violently.
abstracted from normality,
we lay with only four walls
prostitution vs. substitution

ran away.
to you.

for themselves.

stable, though sedate. this is intolerable.
you finally become a parallax.
dead bodies float through the mo(u)rning air.
...even if i do laugh.

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