A lover hung on her death row
I was hooked on her disease
Highly strung like Cupid’s bow
Whose arrows hungered meat
And the blinding flare of passion
In the shade of narrow streets
Where their poison never rationed
All the tips they left in me
Sick and weak from my condition
This lust,
To her alone in full submission
She haunts at the corner of my mind
She burnt me like a furnace
For my future suicide.
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