Sharon Olds - The Promise
Improv
We have a suicide pact
Pricked fingers and signed blood
Barbarous actions but necessary\
We run off instinct
You trip, i catch you
Your sick, I care for you
You smell of perfume, I hold you close
And in your darkest hour
As you lose your grip
I cling close and we fly together
Like butterflys, singing in the night
As we both step off the edge
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