Poetry - My Love Comments

I do all these things for poetry:
I rip my flesh under a running shredder
And discharge many chunks from my dark-brown skin; grams upon grams of colored human flesh,
For poetry to witness my death in its public sight (a witness to a hopeless case of human sacrifice): to have to lose a soul for this lascivious affair. What a saddening way to expend a human life.
...
Read full text