145: A fiend’s tongue taught me to greet then end each day with nothing woeful, nothing sweet —

Once I don’t hate you 
I find mercy to renew argument and make song.

For your sake, I hate hate.
I see chidingly day follows night...  your lips’ gentle breathing, a languished state yet explosive.

But today I saw your hand in my life ... a great doomed sound altered, flown away.. I’m totally saved, from heaven to hell, flown straight to your heart, Jezebel, never to hate, “not you.”