Love is such a heartless business
The arsonist told me
Just after she had abandoned everything
And mutilated my life
Everything needs to be set on fire
Ignited and destroyed
So there is no trace left
That anything else ever existed
All those stories you hear,
Of frozen rubies and crushed
Mild dew are all lies,
Fed to us by the industrial heart complex
Everything needs to burn,
Her camphor green voice insists
But it needs to be cleansed first
With incense and hate
Love is a heartless business,
The arsonist goes on, repeating
That it is puerile and pure servitude,
Nothing to gain or to lose
To save you, I must set
Your heart on fire
So, you are left with nothing
Nothing, but my burn marks
On your heart
--
Tz
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