Make((Shift)).Love
By: Bleached Roses

Such s.p.a.r.k.l.i.n.g copper eyes--
Bubbling at the brims with iodine.

I'm sorry, Darling,
I never meant to make you
cry.

Note: This begins a collection of what will soon become extremely morbid abstracts. I will advise you now, if obsession, rape, and flawed romance is not something you approve of in poetry, disengage from reading this any further. Thank you.