Spell

How long can yearning satisfy a reckless host?

I drink my reflection from your exasperated pupils

Wondering if the spell will surrender your name.

I am not indifferent to the depth

Of your primal sentimentality

And I have more passion than I have shame

For there is nothing I wouldn’t do

To strip the rind shrouding your heart.

(Bitter is not the only flaw inherent in poison)

It would be such a tragedy to die before you

That you might wake with only the reminder

Of what once was a lifetime of pivotal conjunctions

The only thing you can believe is that the fire

Spares no man his curiosity

But it is a small price to pay for love.

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