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In Our War Nest

You silently snarl,

Across the couch,

The cushioned space between us
A continental divide.

Knees up.

Feet firmly planted.
Toes splayed, backs rigid,

Sore against our fortress walls.

Our respective sofa arms.

I don’t even remember how this started.
It’s 4 am, I’m still quite drunk and my lips

are looser than my morals.

I want to hurt you.
I want to lash out with my tongue,
Break your breast plate with words of spite.
I want to reach in and feel your heart beat in my hand;
Wrench it out

and put it on a silver platter next to mine.

We can be equals once again.

Just tell me you still love me…

You can have my eyes…

You can have my hands…

You can brand my breast with a hot-iron whore.

Just tell me you still love me…

Even if you still leave.


About Chronically Kaarina

My life is not a tragedy.

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