tragedy of the moor

if you were

to mindlessly

let that handkerchief

fall

onto

unforgiving cement

(the one I had

given you)

i would

kill you

(doubt's bells

ring too loud.)

i tell you!:

i could talk myself into white.

but i would rather fall to black

and strangle you in our love-bed

than stay in this grey uncertainty

of a hand reaching in complete darkness.