Collar of Thorns

 

 
You beckon me with a curl of your lips

the promise of irrevocable devotion

but golden arrows clash with lead

my love comes up unmatched

 

Little senile things

make your tongue slick with cruelty

a budded seed of sadism planted in

the missiles you struck us with

 

I had not wanted to love

but you looked so sweet with those

leaves piercing your skin-

how can you run with branches as limbs?

 

Oh Daphne, you lover of laurels

I do not want you

but this wound connects me to you

I crave your roots

 

When I come up to visit

the moon path leading me to your home

I shall twist your fruits round my neck

and follow you even in death

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