Fading Love

I’ll pass your eyes to Martha
She’s only up one flight of stairs
She knows you’ve been in Paris
I warned her but she wouldn’t care

I’ll write her up this letter
Your hand is broken, feeble, paused
She’ll kiss it if I let her
Though I’d say she thinks it’s for a cause

I’ll pop another nipple
That photo of the last one’s faded
Skin should rip and ripple
Martha knows a way to make it

I’ll fuss your fingers lightly
Correct the errors made in earnest
Martha is delighted
At the suffering on another’s surface

I’ll link a rail to London
You’re waiting at the station quietly
Cold winters are uncommon
Some still stiffen friendships politely

I’ll cough until it hurts her
Then rushing comes a generous smile
You’ll know by how I murmur
Insults written in spiting guile

I’ll leave your lungs with Martha
She deserves that kind of honour
One fuck and it’s all over
I’ll give you what you never gave her

 

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