a mercenary communion rips
discretion from hands numb with loneliness.
fingers blindly devouring the bread of your body.
the price of your wine a banquet
of loss.
place the knife back into my heart
at least there is familiarity.
nothing will be known
of the requiem that crosses
your lips, a fragile breath
the last right of my passing.
painting by Jel Ena
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