Sunday, October 16, 2011

Old Poem Becoming New

You taste my pleasure

I drink your pain.

There is no cure

For a wrecked train.

You pierce the wound

Within my veins.

I feel your blood

Turn into flames.

Your desire to be

What we can’t have.

Decides to turn

Your mind to mad.

Your thoughts drip down

Like endless rain.

You taste my pleasure

I drink your pain.

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