You can feel her, burning in your veins,
Holding you down with titanic chains.
She’s everywhere, at all the turns.
For her touch, your body burns.
And yet you let her, despite the pains
Upon your body, her silhouette reigns.
You’re losing the war, your self-control wanes.
Despite your efforts your body yearns.
You can feel her.
You’ve tried and tried, but she remains.
No bleeding her out, no bleaching the stains.
She’s in your body and your concerns.
When you think she’s gone, she returns.
Why, you ask, but your body explains,
You can feel her.















Comments
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"Religion used to try,
That vast, moth-eaten musical brocade
Created to pretend we never die,"
From: Philip Larkin's "Aubade"
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My hope was found when I left you in your darkest moment.
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