I took my love for you and drowned it like a kitten
But I will still talk to you now and then.
As the body rots inside, only the soft fur is left.
But I remember that look from those eyes;
The irretrievable flicker of life is remembered
But lost in the tight mouth and eyes of death.
Can we expect civility when cymbals crash in mind?
Why split open the wound sewn so tight?
When might a relaxed air rest between us?
How long can the anguish crush each move?
When are the embers too cold to be rekindled?
Who can resurrect my pretty soft drowned kitten love?