Woodcutter, Darling

Love is cutting my heart from my body, my soul from my substance.

Woodcutter, darling,
Who has taken my heart,
He carved me to pieces,
Whilst I carved my own flesh;
We two moved in unison
To beat darkness’ wolves,
Yet the animals turned me,
My woodcutter wanted-
But could not- set me free;
Instead the knives were raised,
Woodcutter killed me.
Alone in the forest, choking
Emotions cluttering
Thoughts, words, senses,
Where the trees were beneath
Me, and the sky had contorted,
My echoes were silenced
In the presence of the night,
Deadly, delicious evil,
Tempted from the start.
Woodcutter saw,
That is his endearment:
To watch from the distance
Soils chasmically caused;
No more our chemical dance,
Skin to my lips,
As appearances show,
The dusk is creeping
Behind my soul- visage
Reflecting what the hiding face
Can control-
So, woodcutter, gentle
Was being kinder when he took
My beating part from my whole,
My moving sensitivity,
And he tore it from the mould,
Expecting little as his own,
Holied body turned, victorious,
Letting my red cloak surround
Me in a sweep, letting my
Red cloak pour out from
That broken shaft of an empty
Shell, staining the little left;
Like the stealthy beast he stole,
That woodcutter ate my heart.

The End

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