Pure


It’s a fine line between death and life,
in those threads of time when I’m under you,
I feel death.
I die every time your hand strums my skin,
every time my breath stops and I drift on a web of hypnotised ecstasy.


It’s a fine line between death and life,
and I wish for death when you touch me.
Death is the only way I can keep these threads of perfection pure.
I’d die on a high,
I’d die with your essence in me,
I’d rot but we’d be pure,
me and you we’d die pure.

I’m a manic with you in my life,
madness has become my shadow,
obsession eats at me,
your love kills me,
brings me to life,
kills me again.

But we’d die pure,
you and I we’d die pure.
I’d be yours and you’d be mine,
and we’d die pure.

2 Comments

  1. Joe Karinga says:

    The art in this piece is deep and mind boggling

    Like

  2. elimwalimu says:

    The perfect representation in words of the insatiable longing and contentment that are often at a tug of war in the game of love. Beautifully done.

    Like

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