The Price
by Caroline Tiss
How is the taste?
The poison on your lips so sweet,
If the truth is subjective - which it is in the most divine sense,
How can you thrash through the thicket of branches that is the heart of Sophia with wreck less hands and no consequences in your heart?
The reasoning is because in your futile spirit there is no question whether or not you have the right to hurt,
There is not a silver thread of questioning yourself as to why you run ramped with malice,
Why should you not question?
Why should you not ask where you have cut the vein or how much it cost?
Do not lie to me.
Has Saturn taught you nothing?
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