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Taste of Citrus Love

Standing over disembowelled pulp,

her lover’s grave on the ground

She mourned voicelessly as the sky erupted;

It fell down banging

on a kitchen window frame


The beginning of a murder parody,

darkness on a stakeout for the night

DETECTED! Nightcrawling Daywalkers:

beams of undercover sunlight

lying in wait for when the sun is put down; galloping

away from the sun, and to us,

I guess what they say is true

When Victor sleeps Frankenstein walks


They tripped over the kitchen glass window,

face-first on a steel blade;

affording the silver a sparkling sheen,

dressed in moonlit white.


He who was the beloved colour of life,

lit up from the outside like fire

The son of an evening sky entourage;

a martyr for mortality’s crimes;

fell into the embrace of the knife.


Cool metal steel on the surface

Warm body for sin: the lover

Rivers of vitamin C, an imitation game,

like blood peeking out from under the skin


She was a black widow in mourning,

awaiting a loved one, a kiss of death s

cared of inevitability; When the colourless blade is

a guardian angel of necessity

hesitation to break skin had little consequence;


First whispers on the spotless fruit skin

scraping away at the zest, leaving bruises

Star-crossed lovers at the mercy of prophecy,

of destiny plenty cruel


Moved by the sincerity of his lover’s sorrow,

He leaned into her touch; declaring

the first cut a product of his agency, She

may have wiped away the red acid in resignation

little-by-little, she

drug her grave in his lingering scent

Feral hunger felt, unbound and unleashed


There was but little joy in gallantry

She learnt it the hard way


It never stuck in her memory

The burdens of the greater good;

the duty


What ironic poetry compelled the universe

into weaving this ill-fated affair?

A union forged at the cusp of separation; explicating that

the costs of abiding by heart is a value incalculable;

a delicacy

T’is like the red citrus acid-washed down the kitchen sink


The significance dawned unceremoniously,

bearing the sorrow of loss, built her bed

behind the shrine of mortality

Despite the memory of her love, another love persisted

The eternal and the everlasting

love for taste lingered still

And as fate would have it,

she picked another lover

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