Love PoemsPoetry

I’m in Love With Death

The guy with a sickle
Not to harvest cocoa pods
Or mangoes

The guy with your body
Whom you painted black
Got my heart in love
Yeah, I love him
I love him like the burning furnace of hell.
His charisma smells like ashes of burnt bodies
His eyes darker than dark itself

I love him,
he succeeded in drawing me in.

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