Pretending to Forget You

each day makes loving you disappear
—more objective—a greater tragedy.
each day makes pain taste like wisdom.
every moment is special like majesty.

each day passing, I forget to adore you;
I must be lying, more to adore at a
given integer; mouthing my ego, at
some space, so mature, aside a tundra.

my soul is heavy with violence—and
chivalry; silent bugs, soul eating
maggots; if to have stopped adoring
the pain, the feeling, the beating.

too tender to have died, so loved to ax
a spirit; each miracle tears like tacks.