The Chase

Photo by Dana

I chase the edge of an echo, true make-believe teasing reality. The sound of skin swimming in sin, a horizon over which I fall down. There I surrender, not wanting to be found, but misery seeks innocent company, guiltily. I write us an abyss of darkness in which we can drown. 

Dare to touch my sadness with your bitter pill. Spoon feed me the fantasy where you love me against your will.  My pious passion will absolve you, naked nectar filling the Holy Grail.  Drink of me before I evaporate into the lacy ether of your memory. 



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