Simple Echo

And this is my delight, in some days, to
sneak upon your shoulder, then to
your ear I whisper an "I love you" after
which I cackle, silently knowing
exactly what you gasp means to
me

as the phrase slithers from my tongue leaving
its slime oozed trail for
you to smear off, an imaginary path from
my will to your ear to your
brain, but you understand
its not for the poison it is of
me

and from my finger pads writhe twisting
skeins of fate, silky, comfortable, so that
you proclaim to all you meet of
the wondersome drapes your love has given
you, twining you more as you squirm in
the thoughts you run through your head, while
you remain unaware of the bonds from
me

then you breathe in my essence, those
narcotic clouds of mushroom spores which
conceal my spirit's scales, my forked language, you
try to analyze the composition of my will
and rejoice, though I know no beneficence, instead
you dance in supreme delight at beauty of
me

so I shout out solidifying words which
sputter and scream with flame, then
throw sparks to each other, prancing in
a whirl of jinni, the shallow words becoming
a world seen through my muddy
window, a wall between you and your
still, small voice which warns you of
me,

for now we stand in this spartan
room, lacking any senses but these which
I give to you and I rage for you to
witness the strangled perversity of our
union,

since i still know not whether
it is a love of the hate or
a hate of the love which
I feel for you.

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