The many fires that burn the heart,
Revel
in the agony and screams of
Buried desire, your soul cigarette ash,
And all that matters is a man who carried
Luck in a black suitcase full of rings made
of trash
The burnt salt over my palms exposing lines
Of fate that I had forgot, Love faded like a
Ragged lion cloth once dyed in indigo
And desire slipping through the folds of
Creased anger dragged over the plains of pure
agony
Separation puts planets between us,
Neptune and the sadly named Venus,
Each inch a fucking mile, each moment
A rusted nail, digging deeper and deeper in
The burrow of my face. A smile held together
By plastered guilt
Deadly madness takes control and ramblings
In sleep become a divine scroll,
All burnt, all razed, all rubbed clean
Expect for that part of me which is
She, of many fires
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