So I Just Wrote A Thing

Puppy Love
by Thomas Duder, Author of the Things

It is unnatural, forbidden, and the taboo of it
Is the headiest of spice, the strongest of brew
The deliciousness of it, the exquisite flavor
Of our love is all I live for now, foul survivor

Even as the stars wink out, one by one,
And the infinitesimal night cries out
And reaches to snuff out all tangible
Even then, and yet, I will always love you

You, who have accepted me
You, who see beyond the squirming mass
The Cradle of Chaos, my birthing bed
You, who accept me for who I am

What I am

And I can pretend to be alive, so warm for you
And it feels amazing to feel, even a simulacrum
You, my little light, my little love, mine
Beloved as you are by me, who defies explanation

And my blood runs from hot to cold, as strange
Aeons die in my wake, the planets run red with
The foulest of ichors, squirming and boiling
At the mere thought of ever displeasing you

That someday you will awaken and realize
The monstrosity you have fallen in love for
Beyond explanation, beyond the ken of space
And normal descriptors that fail to encompass me

What I am

And yet you do, encompass and embrace me
Even as the rest of my mass squirms for leagues
And light years beyond, only this, the tip of my
Existence, and yet all of me you affect

As this planet breathes last, and the flesh fails
And the seas and oceans boil with reddened blood
Beneath these stygian, hyperborean skies
Will I always love you, beyond forever and always

No burnt out husk you will be, but mortal forever
As perfect as you are, as loving as you are
As true as you are, trusting and innocent
And I accept you, mortal, even as you accept me

What I am