Love as War. War as Love.

I adore

The musk of a delicious person’s weakness.

I walk like a ship in the ocean.

I have

a knife to eat,

seaside.

Destruction has not ended completely.

I stay open as an unread book.

 

My satisfaction

is kept on his skin,

The breakdown in his language,

The rhythmic dance of his need.

One thought on “Love as War. War as Love.

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