It was an obsession,
illegal possession
of the love drug connection
driving her into
criminal intent.

She assumed by his promises
she owned him
all affection shown him
all ****** gratification
grinding deep into
her chemical brain.

But then came
that chemical pain
rejection
subtraction
from the satisfaction
of knowing with certainty.

Possessing little sanity
she drove metal nails
up and down
the red paint
of his ford truck.

Empowered by passion
she pushed past him
pounding until the
pulpy flesh
of his favorite pet
plastered her nail bat.

It went farther than that.
With a gun to his back
she pierced his heart.
The pumping stopped.
Then she put the barrel
up to her head,
pulled the triggered.
Until, she too was dead;
finally, free from
her obsession.

I did not really listen
cause everything written
that I read
was devoured too fast.
It was only when I slowed down
that I saw the words
for more then what they were.
They became images in my head
of the spiraling universe they represented.

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

I'm beautiful
You've told me all evening
and will tell me all night
but will I still be beautiful
*in the morning?