“The love you have given to me is instilled in my body, my blood, my being. ” -Mi

Isn’t that the love I’ve given enough? Does it cast shadows for doubts spite the tree with spirited love who’s roots are deep with iron for nails and lava for blood to insinuate for folly that follows for the stubborn girl stuck in a maze? Let I not cast the first stone for I have no mortal sin. Flesh of my flesh and blood of all bloods leave trail for cinder as The ashes mixed with pigment and intertwine like lively wine; a class of Pinot Noir I guess for all and forever more. A trail of death as droplets form of rosie hue as the saints play then now where a hollow husk lays benign like unrefined wine for all to swiss and swiss and spit.

Says I, prefer that Cabernet else wouldn’t I taste such flavory. For morsels so tender in texture vexes me to such extent. To have or not to have, that is a dignified question of moral seclusion. Says I, I’ll one here or maybe thrice! I liquored man I am dine such a meal on savory wine. No one knew how kind or perhaps how blind I was. For preferences, that sly devil on Prada heels, soon gives instincts for casting stones that shatter and break my now weakened bones.

Alone I parade with my own charade. One man one heart now shopping without a cart. To fill empty space within my heart with all the love I’ve stole leaves me a little smart. A black hole I say. Been shopping all day five-finger-discounts all over to make me stay. No matter how much I’ve stole, it doesn’t seem enough. I’m lost with words my love. I’m lost without you. The apple of my eye.