Foolish Woman

Foolish Woman

 

 

The heart dies of an affinity for

the sweetest treacle.  It longs for

 

the most indecency in moments.  Here,

that improbable lady, thinking about how there is

 

something really quite strange to exist in

a place where her habits have been

 

strategically landscaped by men.

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What I don’t understand is how you

can ignore so much of this.  You choose to

 

gouge out your own eyes so you can’t even set

sight on the first glimmering, glisten

 

of light.  Maybe, you are a hopeless

fool, who would rather barely breathe, than

 

indulge your every moment, and be

what they would call art?

Dear Juliet

 

There are very few things in life which one should fight

to their death for.  Love is one of them.  If it is

fierce, and joint, there is no poison

too deadly.  But if that love is itself not

reciprocated, then it does become quite lethal.  Star-crossed

happens not often enough, but there are

apothecaries to save you from that terror.