There is no decline
In my love, throughout surges of pain.
After all, a body
Can not fully exist in 360 vision.
If sights do control
If minds only see
I wish you not a responsibility to feel me.
But if attention is paired with pain
And your finger in my wound could
Point to where it hurts. I’d agree;
I’m not broken, I’m alive.
Feigning Feigning Feigning Feigning Intimacy
You are more than what I touch
As is this desire
Stronger than what hurts.
A body in pain is exposing stone
I bear my fruit, I need not be replanted.
But should illness inflict upon my roots and
Tremors do appear
Save what is good
Begin again to tend to what is bound to grow
And perform rights upon that which hath
Lost so instead.
For the tree in me a seed I’ll be.
Not stricken so yet by the sun
Rather soaking in the moistness
Of a thousand deaths a thousand lives
Focused, not to hypnotize, but to wait
In the patient arms of a hunger that knows
It is not the body that is its bait.