the melancholy of romance.

and if each drop
of the most tormented
fall of rain
fell and drenched
those pearls pf sweat
that trickle down
the silhouettes of pain

it would be like those
words you left
unsaid
and i would bathe
in nothingness

and if each yawn
withheld
during those nights
that perturb the mind

in lost thoughts
of frozen memories
that your head
thawed
into my lips
leaving it bereft
of thine own
while you stepped back
just like the berries
left uncolored
by a coating of thick snow


I'd drink all your poisons.

and if pain was
only agony
your red bean
on my cherry
would disprove

those moments
like bubbles of faith
would burst
just
in one stoke of lightning
that colored
the flush on my cheek

as you gave rhythm
to my movement

and this is pain
for it shall remain
etched in my skin
for the depths of hell
are only the gravity
of the measure
of its nadir

for if hell
was the worst
I’d confess
To all,
That it wouldn’t be worse
than your leaving my womb bereft.