There's a wound
and it's yours - your width, length and shade -
to put your fingers inside,
keep it weeping, keep me kicking out.
I swear I've tried every potion, ointment, prayer,
it heals only to reopen when you're near,
or when a song reminds me, poem reminds me, place
takes me back
to when you left
- when I was leftovers.
In your Eden I laid myself bare, swore I'd never,
I ache in my unyielding weakness -
you must know it, even with years between us, you must know it.
I burn in my head, in space where I can't share, where that genuine, limitless love is just a dank prison to die in.
You'll never give over
and I'll never give in.