FEVER RED

I sink beyond cure in this fever red,

beneath the night that strips my skin, that whips my breath;

my pulse split wide —a god who’s gone to death—

and wine, your lie, rising in my chest.

The shadows toast me with their libertine cheer,

with death chanting prayers meant only to kill;

oh, my drunken bones tremble, sweet with bitten fear,

while your word “forever” rots inside my will.

Fury of flesh, oh body without a name,

how easy it is to die when dreams run dry.

Yet living, you tear me apart all the same,

rip out my eyes, cast me where thorns lie.

So I fall tonight —a descent of cold—

no lilies, no pardon, no mercy, no light;

my soul breaks apart in the words I am told,

for love knows no tomorrow when love is a fight.