Poem by scott tetreault
A masculine phrase is but a feminine word.
I held your hand, and felt me inside,
Illuminating my truncheons of death.
Oh, how you stole my heart!
But, I could only acquiesce your thunder.
Shattering a passion far removed from my platitude.
Reticent now, a lifeless rendition of the soul.
It's cavernous depths only breeding stalactites of anger.
My blighted envy only leads to complete decay.
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