Crater
Kill me slowly with your kisses sweet like antifreeze. Poison me, drown me, watch me suffer as I die but be the one holding me under and dosing my drinks.
I can't say the words, not when I've just accepted the size and shape of Love in its many forms so personally that giving it the use of my own vocal chords to sing the sorts of praises that would make even Tennyson squirm is simply unacceptable.
Her Love is an anvil, heavy and solid and made to be built upon. My Love is a hydrogen bomb, disastrous ruination meant to end life and crater the earth. But maybe, my love will simper. be something she could cradle in her hands and not burn from the intensity of it. Maybe, in another life. Another time.
Anytime, really.
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