do you not love me,
as the fly loves nectar dropped in a pitcher-plant,
do you not embrace me,
as the mistletoe embraces its host,
suffocating.
do you not ******* lips,
lips of sweet-tasting cyanide and intoxicating nutmeg,
as these walls separate us,
they unite us,
and the saccharine poison of your affection,
has seeped into my veins.
let me be your antidote,
your toxin,
let me be part of you,
and consume your spirit.
let me sit by you under the strychnine tree,
my head in your lap,
and drink another dose.