My mad mad love

(oldie but a goodie, written in the dark days... watch out for the blood)

My mad mad love

My love is mad crimson love,
it spills into margins,
nibbles your fingers and tickles your wrist; you
drop your can of cream soda
and fall on your knees

My love is an ocean of confetti
tossed back and forth like a frisbee
on a grey concrete highway;
it breaks down granite
and melts into warm
raspberry pudding.

My love is a secret rainbow of
ultraviolet regeneration;
it takes seven years
to blossom from the tiniest
mustard seed, but it feeds every
hollow capillary.

My love is an open book of
prayers, spells; a blue curse
when you are deaf, a
stone statue, paralyzed
in terror of being
in love.

And my love is a clutch of darkness--
blackening my insides, maggots
rotting in midsummer stench--
when I fear
my love is wrong and
I hate my own soul.

My love is killing me
killing me every hour so
I pierced my heart with a silver switchblade—
all that’s left now is
sixty seconds of
mad crimson gurgling.

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