To Love and to Hate

“Everything eats and is eaten, time is fed”

—Adrianne Lenker, “ingydar” from Songs and Instrumentals (2020)

 

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     I'm acquainted with the nuances of affection.

     Tenderness is the home of a surreal perception of beauty. When harrowing daggers plunge into one's exuding core, phenomena of a lovesick cognition festers in the linings of a palpitated heart. Feel the sun-dipped edges of my blade, dowsed and lavished in foolish naivety; they were forged in blossoming pools of vibrant mania. Fancy this warmth that bleeds from the iris of the moon—its a ravenous baptism; the rebirth of a fool, finally gazing at all he has taken for granted. Sanctify this bond; I fear that temptation may bewitch your intentions. Stir quickly. The bells of falling out have begun their lament. Cover your ears, my love. Sink these bones within the home between my arms and drown this melody of jealousy that hums from the deteriorating soil.

     Pray to your saints that love shall never be forgotten in the existence of my infatuation.