Can one name this eccentric passion?
That neither allows sleep nor
waken
Or stay or even leave
Staying, burns. Leaving, kills.
For the heart cries and laughs
Wanting to cleave and shred
Into a million shards
to present to thyne wild spirit
This scream in my interiority
Fancying consuming thou
And not share with another
Even a child
Or a wild electricity
With which I’ll behead
and then proudly kiss thy face
and keep beside when I go to bed.
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