to
love you as blueberry pie, it
tasted
like vinegar, we felt like glory. what did I
know
for love: young, angry, or a mere image.
fierce
mirror. or sour fears. to wrest, wrench, as wretched.
so desperate
so feigned so perfect. we loved
but cranes.
what was I: a quest, a mystic, or misery
by
its path: for your welts, they utter freedom, or
weary
soul, accepts love. by cruel years—or
future
ink—our math its tour.
what
to give, by night crust? whom to scold, whom to
trust?
mirror to brain, or mind seeker, to revenge
itself.
what is love? love is unchained. or
cranberries.
we perished, Love, attuned by gates.
we
fled.
