listless lover - the pointless

fire colored hair
ember wired mane

the intention
of reflection
this passion goes unnamed

“I’ll cut it off,”
she says.
“I’ll make it go,”
gone.

take clippers to this fantasy
this hollow hearted fancy-free
your perfection rots eternity...
my love will be the death of me.

I (we)
never go out anymore

We (I)
never talk.

a lack of
      (passion)
          communication
conversation goes all wrong

these things can be remedied?
the tincture for lost harmony
my lust will be the death of me.

“Sorry?”
he asked.
“Sorry,”
she says.

no Listen
Speak lost him
when she threw his heart to beaks

nameless and unnumbered
their cravings roar like thunder
but here it never rains, never rains

wings flicker
hearts blink
empty electricity

sort of like a pointless metaphor.

he never was the things she called him.