smitten and twisted |your clawed hands
are like paper
are like steel
and you have eaten fire | whet your appetite with ice and ash
scrawling with your lust
hurting me with your vapid monologue
and your glass is tilted
your humour is blasting
you are moulded by the metaphor of sin
gasping for air
I am bleeding another atmosphere
an explosive world
you are raw
I am sentient
even if you leave
I can bury your soul
into some gorge
of insignificance...
