These are ancient pains
repeated rhythms
of love’s addiction.
I tire of their incessant pounding,
beating flesh,
molding skin
as if I was Clayface.
I shape and retrace
this identity
to connect me
to humanity,
but it is a lock
without a key
and the gate won’t open
to let me in.
So, I die
deep and alone
drowning in
the underwater
ocean currents
that pull me farther and faster
then I ever dreamed I’d go.