The Exhaustion of Romance
When I’m drowning, they are distant and skeptical When I’m sailing, they gather to observe the spectacle My cheeks used to be made of roses, my pupils were once starred How did I become just a chew toy to use and discard? They don’t savour their words, they just spit them Basking smugly in the fruits of their mayhem I love them when they don’t, they disgust me when they do I am cast to play both the vixen and the shrew Th...