He had to eat in solitude
to look at him would be grotesque.
The food he forced into his mouth
had no flavor or essence.
He knew that it was time feed
from sound of stomach turning.
His skin was thin and caving in
for taste he had no yearning.
He sang songs that sounded like mysteries
with utterance unknown
without the means to form the words
his notes were hums and groans
He hid his face so often
from furrowed brows his wretchedness
better not to get too close
spare community duress
Isolation, hunger and shame
Contemplating things you never said
from all of the signs interpereted
counting liars who play such games
running in circles, calling names
insisting I am fine, I'm fine
Antonia! Ay the curve of her face,
the silk of her mouth!
Her eyes so soft and hot enough to melt.
What shame I have been brought to with such affection for
Antonia!
She has mended me only to rip me open again.
I am a chest of sutures
with a wound on top
and foolish me, I long to be sewn over again by her tender hand
even if she rips me open again when she is done
That is what Antonia's touch does to me
She makes me right and wrong
all at the same time.
I am brave enough to be undone
if my Antonia wishes me broken.
If ever to lie in her presence
leaves me shivering and bare?
I am the man...
only her I am broken and whole!
Immortal Anotonia!
Undo me forever!
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