You read to me tales about lost love,
I sing to you poetry that sighs of hate.
You caress my skin with tender abundance
While purgatory loss sets my heart aflame.
Yet ashes don't burn, do they now?
An embodiment of carmine words you crave'
Inked upon my skin, torn pages of a book;
Lethal, vermin, beautiful and bitter'
One letter for another,
We are sired to each other.
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