It is the one part
That does not
Matter
Veins strangle
The pulsing mass
Squeezing till
It is a pulpy goo
Unrequited affections
Scream their torment
Wake me harshly
From dark day dreams
See painted fingernails
Press my flesh
Until skin gives way
To a ****** Sunday
Till my pen is spent
Red ink dripping in
Ancient tableaus
Finds me longing
To do what lovers do
Poisonous asp, or dagger
Skyscraper, or fire
To silence desire’s
Unfair punishment