Saturday, November 26, 2011

Sadness Sadism

Perhaps memory has betrayed our love, for you
No longer remember my words
And I have carefully begun to forget yours.
There is a quiet method to the pains I inflict upon you,
A steady progression of scars.
The first scars were of love between our bodies,
Nails drawing blood from my back, as
I loved you until dawn. The cries of morning
Birds mingled with yours. I still savor
Memories in the dark.
Yours legs still ache, for we
Were taught by the Sutras.
I buried myself in the thick of your hair
You whispered secrets and nibbled my ear.
More scars followed,
As I broke your heart; for you also broke mine.
While you sought comfort in tears and memories,
I decided, solemnly,
To burn me only to give you another scar, until
All that remains is a tale;
Of a woman who lived by
And a man who had decided to die.

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