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The Love of My Death

A poem about killer love

Photo by Hugues de BUYER-MIMEURE on Unsplash

The love of my life, they call him,
Huh. If only they knew.
A passion much fiercer than wildfire,
It will tear my heart scape in two.

As if love belongs just to the living,
Crammed into the beat of our hearts.
Don’t you ever think about the gaps in between?
When it stops. Before it…




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Emily Wilcox

Emily Wilcox

I imagine in a parallel universe I might be a caricaturist or a botanist or somewhere asleep on the moon — but here, I am a writer.

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