deepundergroundpoetry.com
I Am Not My Heart
You can dangle it
by the aorta,
in front of my face,
tempting your chaton
with the finest of
feathery lace...
of course, clawed paws
would bat back at it,
all in blurry jest.
But "I" am something under
my body and blood;
"I" will never belong to any world
but the one on your lips.
by the aorta,
in front of my face,
tempting your chaton
with the finest of
feathery lace...
of course, clawed paws
would bat back at it,
all in blurry jest.
But "I" am something under
my body and blood;
"I" will never belong to any world
but the one on your lips.
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