King of my Weakness

by Marthe Dybdahl   Aug 29, 2007


Thy lips are a razor
that leave my soul to bleed

The naked metal
against worm skin

Thy voice, my law
my kiss, Thy slave

Though dead
my heart beat

Thy love reigns
my pain your love

Poisonous cold
fills my memory

As Queen of Thy love
I soar

My weakness
you kingdom.

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