flint knapping

braided brillo scrapes corrosion off terminals
the battery that makes her tender
must also incinerate the openness offered

loss polishes silver placed behind silicates
more than the complacency
that always accompanies satisfaction

we died with honor
destroying each other
in the unrequited ecstasy  
of expectation

and it was love, my darling
don't lessen our tensions

murder is the mistress of matrimony
and we are addicts, we shouldn't have dabbled
but there is no faith needed in the gnosis
of feasting on each others ventricles