Vena Amoris
Love thumps in your blood,
like an infection
from a sting, a bite,
a poisonous paper-cut.
You shiver, and rambling in your fever
you say it like it is;
love me for my sickly pale features,
love me for my disease
'cause I love you for your health.
Love,
you choke on that word,
as if near death,
but merely letting your
imagination violate your mind.
Coughing, hallucinating,
you'll remember thinking;
- I hope you've been
contaminated too.
Poetry by True Words Embellished
Read 655 times
Written on 2005-10-12 at 23:11
Tags Love 
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