Last Phone Call to Death
Equal Love, Equal Death
by Taylor Hoekstra
Gold to silver,
Rich to poor.
You are my beautiful Bathsheba, I’m your David.
I’ll battle and eliminate the obstacles if it means your passion.
Once apart but now we stand,
All I want is your love and your hand.
The life, the parties, the bliss in the air,
Still we bluntly lived our double lives.
Our love was ceaseless.
Your body was my chapel.
The castle of toxicity.
Like a tiger is to a lion,
Hungry for the same prey,
But yet they have to live so far away.
Yet our letters let us dip into the pool of desires,
And the Tree gives freedom for our harmonious attraction,
But our fantasy pranced before our reality.
Shot the gun.
Shot our fun.