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Water Baby (Bleach and Elder Gods)

December 7, 2013

onehundredandfourteen

One more imperfection borne on your bare shoulders.
I traced it with my fingers.
Because.
In the end.
What else was there to do?
The sea heaved and sang.
Come let me swallow you.
And sleep beneath the waves.
Until she is yours again.
Let your heart beat no more at the bars.
This cell of earth and men.
When her voice is honey, dripping.
Down the raised hairs on your neck.
Her hands on your back.
Scratch out the burning embers.
Where, once.
There were soaring wings.
Cool keloid scars.
And anoint.
The flayed flesh at the breaking point.
And there are things.
Just beneath her skin.
Things buried by selfish providence.
That you see your reflection in.
You’ve an awful lot of love.
My boy.
And if you were only.
A little less fatal.
You could make this one fucking work.
Because she makes you happy.
I mean.
God.
She really makes you happy.
No easy thing to do.
She meets your eye.
And.
“What”?
And.
“Nothing”.
And you smile and kiss.
Because.
In the end.
What else is there to do?

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From → Poetry

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