A Sonnet

January 25, 2011
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Dearest ______, yes you know who you are,
I miss the sensation of blistered lip.
The bitter taste of clotted blood…so far-
Back in my mouth, much too thick to take sip.

Is it so wrong to miss what exploded?
Beneath your candied skin lay nothing more.
________ oh _______, you were my sugar-coated…
Just a slick packet of cruor and gore.

Dear _________, you heard me right, you heard me first,
Love, we both knew this was how it would end.
A violent-splattered love affair with thirst,
Putrefaction of what was, ill to send.

Let’s paint the closet walls with…numb with oh….
Sing along to the broken radio.

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