my lover, she baptized herself in blood;
my lover, she reeks, reeks of
everything the postman hasn't told her.

my lover, she baptized herself in blood;
my lover, she talks, talks of
life back in between waters and death.

my love, my love, my love,

wont let me sing a sonnet to her
before her body reeks of
fertilizers and plants i'll leave in

her jigsaw puzzle skull.
my lover, she reeks, reeks of
nostalgia i cant withstand.

my love, my love, my love.
my lover, she reeks, reeks of
her clothes at home i called death.

oh,
my Lover, she baptized herself in blood.

- eozyoh. 21.01.2018