Fear and loathing are nothing
In their extremity
But the ardent desire
To see the reflection of self
In the others eyes
And the absence of such
For the reason of touch
Or lack thereof
Fear and loathing do not hate
They replace the divine
At the heart of whats mine
In the soul of the one
That has undone
Me like thread
Til I am dead
Or more
And less
Than what that is
But the kiss
Did you miss
The bliss
Or was it I
That die
To the self
When I looked and stared
And saw what isn’t thered
To look back
No fear
And why
You don’t care if you die
And I love
But don’t touch
So much