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Bitter-sweet nostalgia? Desire pulls hard, But it's too late. Dead are all my virtues And gifts. It dulls not any pains, And hard covet Reaps a poor harvest In these latter days. Starve me in Boneman torture. Skin-tight lover. Pound upon pound Of flesh paid well With gnawing ache, And hunger. But your want lies asleep, Under frozen layers of ignorance. Or even fear. Dressed in sacrilege, I sprawl in hurt ? And wear thorns Just for you. Read my scars, Count my sorrows, But see me ! 'Lest the cruel beauty In my song face the trial Of deaf ears. And that is truly worse than death. I dance in your spirit And sleep so well in your arms. Awake unattainable one? Awake? |
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