'If a writer falls
in love with you
You can never die'
Even if this were true
I will **** you tonight
I will **** you tomorrow
Until I run out of ink
I will **** you
In each and every one
Of my rhyme-less poems
I will write
Of your death
In my blood
When my quill is dry
So when I die
You die with me
And you are dead
Even in immortality