As sorrow almost always refines and softens the face

of the sufferer..



Endless autopsies
on my thoughts
reveal
a kingdom of killers
 


I try to give...
like pretend
that I can save if not myself
...someone
 

hands made of 
ghost and magenta
shadow ...
melting Arianrhod spells
into your night 
moons of black and
lip coloured lights

I dont know you .
I dont want to know you 

I just want the symptoms
of our mutual affliction 
and then you need to go ...



For I am
in love with a classical god
and a forgetful baby ..
and
you
are unallowed to love me