Drop upon knees, More frigid than the ground beneath. You took your love by a bouquet of flowers, Dressed up as the stems, themselves, With slenderness to form, While radiant in cheeks, With love to every sentence You will ever speak. Your eyes, A cauldron for my searing. My passion bites the chords Wrapped around your neck. Your life Is a compromise. Your dreams, My faults. Your arms, A safety. My hands, A cruelty. What design keeps me, Besides in brutality? I am in love with a stranger In a glass house. He has mirrors all around, While no reflection is his. You are the beautiful sort, Clinging to the frozen Earth, For you have died, As I remain alive To count each tear that has fallen Over the streams where love was lacking.