A violent spread,
Cathartic vowels of separation.
How I miss the wounds of our love,
those inseparable moments of unhappiness.
With dirt divided,
I claim an infinity
of lice and harpies;
of cockatoos and dragons,
of fear of loneliness.
And in this fear of loneliness,
I press in against your skin
and puncture every point of pain.
Until loneliness is what I have become.