If I were to be given the option to **** you,
I would do it gently.
Lovingly.
I would hold your head in my lap
as I feel you become a heavy corpse.
I would lay flowers on your chest
as your breathing slows.
I would pray that you are both confused
and disgusted
by the sheer magnitude
of my forgiveness.

That it haunts you as you take your last breath.

That it haunts you in death.

In the end,
everything I write is about you.