No, this is not a
poem about her

But I know that deep
within my aching heart,
I will do anything
she asks of me

I will break all
my vows for her  

I will break all my limbs
for her to mold like clay

My love, did you know that the orchids
in my room shudder when I whisper
your name in a prayer?

My mind is a shrieking graveyard
that is too freighting to visit alone

Sometimes,
I hear the skulls of all the people I
have ever loved rattling inside my heart

I do not know how to quiet
down their wailings at night

I have nothing to offer them,
but my dripping pain

Alone, I weep,
lamenting their forgotten laughter

Give me your
crimson mouth
to devour in secret

Help me put out
this burning desire–

All the unspeakable
things I hunger for

Be my muse,
so I can finish
writing this poem

Can I pour this love I hold
for you into your open mouth?

Can I write you endless
love letters as long as I live?

Can I drown my sorrows
between your thighs?

Can I devour your scent till
you suffocate with pleasure?

In the dark
I write you a letter
hoping it would reach you

It starts like this:
My beloved,
I love you still

From afar,
but I still love you
as tenderly
as ardently
as ever

I hunger for you
as violently
as madly  
as ever

And I wait

I know,
my love,
my muse,
I have always known

I knew that this would
be our last conversation,
but this is not my last poem

It pained me deeply,
but I knew that one day
I will slowly start to forget
your loving face,
bewitching scent,
and soothing voice

Oh, how I loved you
I knew I will still love you
even after you desert me

I knew it,
but I still held your small hand
I still worshiped you in secret
I still adored you blindly

And I still do