pyre

I have made a discovery.
I always thought that you were
Everything 
And now I realise that was true. 
You are everything. 
Everything you can find in a 
Cigarette; everything
My friends said you were;
Every day that feels too long.

You love girls like art in galleries.
The painting is already finished. 
Someone has done the work
For you, you can take 
A picture and leave. 
I build love from the floor up; 
Towers of verses before you
Knock knock knock them
Down. 
A sea of jumbled words at
Your feet.

I have filled a notebook with you.
You became my opus, my debut.
I even dropped a hint or two: 
A city, a reference to 
Your name and how it's inked in
Genesis genesis, 
But it sounds different
Where you come from. 
One syllable sprouted to two, 
Mimicking the same faces
As you.

But I have decided to 
Burn my clues. 
I will not chain myself to you. 
I will name the pain, write
About her instead. 
She is more interesting anyway. 
I refuse 
To immortalise you. 
I will not make you God
With your own personal bible.
A scripture founded 
On sin. 

We could have done this together. 
I could have sewn your skin
Into mine to make 
A cloak for Aphrodite, 
But you 
Had to go the route of Hughes.
You choose body
Over mind and heart
And thus I expel you from
Leeching off my art.

You will be remembered! 
Not by name or face.
Time will eat your skin 
And history has no time
For your identity. 
You will be remembered
Merely 
As a girl I loved once.
A monster inside
A female shell.
A nameless, bloodless 
Vulture who 
Cracked my porcelain skull
In two.