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Fringed

Je t’aime, mais j’ai en moi la mort

and then I smiled when the words committed

suicide off your pale tongue

jumping into an abyss of falter in my

pit of emotion killing themselves within me

I cant stare at you for too long

because your pain is far beyond

striking, and I feel like

my glance might hurt you,

maybe burn a hole through your skin

passioned by the existence

of your hands and the body

you have marked, I understand

through our similar experiences

the love that manifests within

our cement bodies

outlined in a rush

spoken of in a small hush

I stroke my fingers through

your hair which has been tinted

by the sun, and I feel tragic

give me all that pain

mon amour so I can hide it

so that I may extinguish it

with my small woman hands

and my small woman heart

there are no words of happiness

that exist to explain how

my being became abrupted and

fell in this heap that might

last as long as the breaths I

take while standing next to you

I feel more beautiful when I

lay next to you

I feel humble in your

kitchen full of broken things

and peeling paint

lets take our smiles

and mix them slowly

until our colors become one

separately whole, I kiss you

and smile as I silently hear our

songs of sorrow playing together in harmony

and the notes are changing and

resemble something of the

universe and its vast space

 

something endless

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Written by
midnight-prague
Greek
Published
Aug 7, 2011
Lines·Words
47·257
Permission

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