Are you confused my dear?
When I frown from ear to ear?
Are you troubled
by my double
who so frequently appears?
if you might but see your eyes
when all is dark and deep and still
hear your voice while whispering
you could give birth to what you kill
we would slip through together
past the veil of wrongful woe
this misdirected stormy weather
at what must or must not be so
I am the priest who fornicates
yet remains devout regardless
the one does not negate its mate
in this land of hippocampus
You can do it if you try
already you are dead while living
because all moments you pass by
exist in half formed grieving
is there a breath you can recall?
or did it rise and fall
a stale decomposition
If you cease such self punishments
remain expansive and feeling small
we may depart until we meet
in no time at all