the regret

the regret tastes like blood, metallic and warm
  fresh from the vein
it buries itself deeper than even the guilt
  burrowing in lower
into the bones it grows, into the soul it roots
  flowers outwards
     from the tips of your fingers
     from the pits of your eyes

the weakness of his love, pitiful and worn
  flesh of the vain
it burns itself dimmer than even the lust
  sinking ever slower
on through the earth it goes, in the dirt and soot
  withers inwards
     from the breath of your lungs
     to the death of your heart

the diamond opens the door, bringing on the storm
  i kneel and wait, with orchids in my hands.
     love in my heart and my lungs,
     my eyes and my soul.
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