Friday, March 9, 2012


love will never be perfect
it is a toothed thing
a central eye that would see for two
who remain ever fragmented from each other
never hitting the bullseye middle
because it’s all ever shifting
where you would think they would meet
those two
an eye coming through
a field of flowers
or maybe bones
or rows of teeth
no matter how you look at it
it’s still sliced up
a part of you
of me
for you
for me and so on
love is a bony and triangular thing
it brings light
it takes it back
it bites and sucks life
from anyone it touches
it thrives on disbelief
that such a thing
could bring such joy


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