The walls of your womb have begun

To draw my vermilion blood

And slit by the edge in your voice

Is my throat nipped in the bud


You must know surely and indeed

That I shrink from the rage I feel

Claw at you and cleave, demented,

My thin skin I took years to weave


I can hear my heart tick away

As we say what we have said before

And our fingers fuse around

The cool pin in its dark grenade core


A Single shadow blights the room

There are no locks on the door

I vanish and you dissolve

In our vitriolic amour



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