Tell, why do I kiss her lips that curse me? Mock me to the very core of my poor vile being. As though I were a boil, filled with brie, A carbuncle: a thing, oozing…
True love is effortless, ha—so some say. Some even compare it to child’s play But whatever it is, it is neither Child’s play, nor is it effortless, I say.
I have merged my hearts ambergris With all the oceans of the stars Mine soul harpooned like a cuttlefish Has cut me from the loom So, I am but a tapestry
