I’m Telling this to the Two of You


31

In my love-soaked bed
I thought I drank love and died from it
Though I have been alone
For how many months now?
How many years have I suffered
*
.
)
My relationship with myself
I caught and wrestled in this bed
The dreams that I once sought
I scatter now to the winds
Accepting, for instance, how much
.
More clever my corpse might be
The legacy of dead songs, you see
Angels will not come to kiss my head
In my love-soaked bed, I live and died
A fantasy, created by stages of delusion
*
.
)
I invented illusions that you existed
So that I might simulate love
That my fragmented heart, might survive
And linger a while in my mind
To obey, some entertainment of beauty
For a lonely life, of dead songs.