Carrying your split needles
Pierces the sides of my heart,
Swelling to insidious paces
Where I thrash on cold walls.
This natural life is fabricated,
Touched by something
We are not capable of having.
Though the moon malingers
We are entrapped by skin,
Sought upon as extinguishers
Of a light already captured.
Our irascible love sears all,
Until the soil is sickened
And we run through everyone
As if we could be invisible
In the world's innocent massacre.
Caught in a shadow of passion-
Inseparable by body
Innumerable by force,
We shudder into each other.
Fixations with no face,
Masticated between eternity's
Incapacity to fill them.
