|March 25, 2011|
by David Brent
I froze your tears and made a dagger,
and stabbed it in my cock forever.
It stays there like Excalibur,
Are you my Arthur?
Say you are.
Take this cool dark steeled blade,
Steal it, sheath it, in your lake.
I’d drown with you to be together.
Must you breathe? Cos I need Heaven.
About the Author:
David Brent is the general manager of the Slough branch of the Wernham-Hogg paper merchants.
The Death of Romance in the Shadow of the Colossus
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words or pics, it’s all the same to me, i don’t draw lines. my exes mum, after reading a poem of mine, he told me she sed to him: ‘someone needs to get her to stop. will she ever draw the line?’ but i won’t. because i don’t want to. if something happened to me it is mine. i can do what i like with it.
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