You are naive and I love it
My little Alyosha
I am none other than
Father Zosima
You don’t see my death-
Beams the fact that I am dying for
Shrieks
And I love it the sheer novelty
Of your innocence. (I suppose
I’m your Ivan) I suppose starlight
Can be moonlight. That blood
Will always be blood. I am indifferent
To most mortal things
I am one fat tombstone
As bright as a supernova
But all I want is love. A Kiss
Of Truth. I want to appear
In mirrors. I just want to feel
Real. I want to hear shrieks.