Jerome by Anastasia Forfotă - HTML preview

Conceal

Pain me

so I can paint you

a picture

so small,

a portrait

for all my vacancies,

to fill them up with you.

And the gaps, gaping

at the luxury of you,

luscious labels

and perfume,

to consume what was

and has dissolved,

to kill, to kill, to kill,

and like Lazarus to rise

above all,

for if God were to let you go,

there would be nothing left,

but death, but death, but death,

and a small portrait

in a locked drawer.