Smother

And the scars left the sky
drawn weakly at my thigh
with an effortless stand
to the end.

We sat 
as we had many times before,
not touching, no speaking
- the end.

You wouldn't believe how much I love you,
you wouldn't believe how much I need - 
and we sat under that cloudless sky
for our end.

Close the book upon our fingertips
and burn it to terminate our fight.
I sliced until you were
bleeding
for the end...


for the end


was all my fault.  

I guess falling for you too deeply
was my fault.

Then the end  
was here
- with black carriages,
and weeping widows,
and dust to dust 
for dead 

but I brought my own picked
lilies for 
our grave.