in
love

love love love

this is my first love poem

we will not lie to her

to whom

speak not to me peasant

where is your title
answer me
he was
an
is
clinging

what have my lips to offer
that mine mind could escape me
this reality is to what
brutality
words
wound
wind
he
capitalized
is beyond all

i watch spit
hold itself
on me
i
spat
on
myselfs image

was this the mirrors reflection
could she escape from me



ever


crossing dropped lines she fell
while we are falling
i ask myself
if
i
we're
really loving you could i fall
?

























...
..
.