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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