If I Couldn'T Love You I Would Die Poem by Krissy Disillusion

That sweet word medley
crooning against my waiting lips
-expectant-
raining beauty on each dying day.
Morning call,
call of the dying
the not quite dead
awakening the stilling hearts,
blood engorged remedy

still a kindled memory,
hazy when i try to
look straight at it.
My long slim fingers beckon you
-closer-
my body split open in symmetry,
the empty waiting
(for you) .
Our tongues flick together,
biting hard love,
bleeding in images of violet.
Looks like early evening;
the twilight of the mind.

We hope we hope
and we know.
The flood
-disillusion-
I want all i have,
having all I ever wanted.