The Curse of Being

I love you, but I must kill you.

Your drunken delirium of colour will fade.
My gossamer touch, butterfly kisses,
fingerprints on your skin are your death:

Your life, for your art.

We are told, from our birth, that you, your kind, are prey.
Keep your distance, guard your heart; do you want it to break
every single time? Take them as liars, sweet ones, pretend
You do not see the ardour in their eyes, hearts razing to the ground
for you.
If you fall, you fall spiralling, and you will never hunt,
Never live again—
You will hate what you are.

Don't bend to them, to what they call love:
Be strong as steel,
Hard as rock.

But you, your soul singing through your script, move me;
lose me in our brief but fiery ceili.
Pure metal gives, igneous rock melts:
I, at the end, must face the fading of your haunting,
brilliant eyes,
Watch you wither like the cereus:
here tonight, and dead by dawn.

My greatest failure is love.

I looked back, I let my heart be swayed, moulded,
marked by your hand:
Never hunt, never live again

And once before so proudly fay
How gladly now would I burn my wings
set myself among mortal things
to love you yet another day.

{Claire}