romance comes
in so many forms

for some brightly lit in the sun, water falls and picnics


what of that? sickly sweet and taffy cream ant infested bologna!

romance is this my love:

wine as red as blood
candle wax dripping upon skin
and pain
pain as sharp as the knife which i use
to carve your lust for me into your chest
as piercing as my body into yours – the physicality of romance

can you feel it?
can you feel the torture that i endure upon days
and nights of not knowing where you are
what you are doing and with whom?

romance is a fistful of angel hair and fingernail clippings
romance is a mindfull of possession and need

i hand it to you on a plate of flesh and bone

for you know as well as i
romance kills

doesn’t it my love?