I love you and

if you didn’t know and

believe it is the past come and

perceived it is the hate you

need like the hands which

weave all those future

choices after you will

see them die and grieved but

why can’t you kill me and

let me die like you over

Bleeded and the tomorrow

cannot conceive let me

leave like the heart

which broke me to deceive

but not as maroon

as you imagine hard

as your skin retrieved but

made as deeded

as a weave of thread

not dead retrieve from

a savior body made

into bread when the

birds sense bad and fled

I love you