In **** communion two bodies blooming, fluidly fused. Blushing, rouge– human muse illusion's hues in but a glimpse, a view, maroon turned blue; and like sweet honeydew exhumed at the roots feelings bruised as you withdrew.
[Honeydew (Part 2)]
Cupid shoots, I still remember how my nerves were electrocuted, how I swooned at your perfume til it became my own execution, the noose; wounds weeping bood red ruby fluid plume cumulus, creeping, soon mutilated to an excruciating monsoon.
Déjá vu, youth in ruins, entombed; only suited for the seclusion, solitude, and crushing quietude that ensues, born to be a recluse far removed no matter what I try to choose or do in the future– everything I love I am doomed to lose.