ROMANCE Poem: I wish I could talk about love, by Guia Nocon

I wish I could talk about love

In my mouth, the words become
a string of profanity
suddenly saintly ears close against

I’m struggling to learn this language
when our fucking becomes one long fuck of prayer
and the altar is a bloody mess of sacrifice
transmuting fear into a litany

And if I’m the lamb
then you’re the blade
not the hand who makes a choice
but the knife
that only knows one way

I can’t even write about it
without the bloody blush
lifting my eyes into violent supplication

I’m walking this street
like I’m not headed towards the death
of this iteration of myself

walking and smiling
turning into something
I’ll murder again
if the prayer is right

a gentle massacre of what is a tender
act of self