Shall we murder eternity,
And sleep upon dead clouds?
I have drunk sips of
Your poisonous immortality.
Here I am, something more and
Missing so much all the same.
Devoid of pain, our veins
Are old and beyond repair.
Though know, my one and only hurt
Is your tongue upon mine.

Stefanie Fontker

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/hurt-238/