Psalm to Love

The violence of your love
is brown-hooded Famine.

Your blood is not your blood
but centuries of flame. A man

is not a man but animal
who follows the smell of soil,

of flower, of meat. Did you
expect me to sacrifice myself

to pain? And you say-

"I have brought you back, cleared
your veins, set you on fire."

The prophet leads his followers
to a cold and shallow ending.

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