Why shouldn't i let thee, thee's tipsness love
impinge into mine blistered soul...
Let you kill me slow, so....
I glisten out your crapulent heart,
beseech into thine black hole
& coruscate into your darkest part of being
Like a homeless mole, I patiently dig towards the root of your love
& find a place of idyllic peace that needs unfolding.
Such beauty, I'd like to think is embedded in suave melanin that comes from deep within
Within your imperfections & every dying star that makes you whole.
Shane. M