around your waist,
the next crime.
Lovers,
their throats cut
on the table
witnessing a romance’s
eternal recurrence.
My battle, over your eyes;
You, raising my war
past the shadows' echo.
Lovers:
stellar jealousy made of
star-shattered hearts;
crystals forging
the grammar of defeat,
cutting through the river
of the fallen.
to summon a theater
with neither fate nor victory;
its curtains open,
to open a new spectacle.
But here,
in my world,
everyone is an enemy,
they love and they hate;
in yours,
it’s half love and half hate.
So then,
what crystals cut the table for two
who never make a losing move?
If we don't spill our own,
but others’ blood.
You,
whom I can neither win nor lose.
yet your voice reassembles fragments
into an echo that screams
two clashing destinies:
conquer and surrender,
prevail and fall;
both, in the same breath.
And finally confess it:
your lovers
—are all I desire.