Though I the one the arrow pierced,
we both displayed the symptom:
You, the one that plunged the blade,
and I, your willing victim.
A madness, hence, burned in our blood;
no draught could quench the fever.
A trick so cunningly conceived,
'twould swindle the Deceiver.
This double blade, this binding act,
for which we cry, "we must!"
A crop both yielding grief and bliss:
the double-edge of Lust.
Feb 19, 2018
Feb 19, 2018 at 3:09 PM UTC
Though I the one the arrow pierced,
we both displayed the symptom:
You, the one that plunged the blade,
and I, your willing victim.
A madness, hence, burned in our blood;
no draught could quench the fever.
A trick so cunningly conceived,
'twould swindle the Deceiver.
This double blade, this binding act,
for which we cry, "we must!"
A crop both yielding grief and bliss:
the double-edge of Lust.