The chocolate has melted
Into ugly little smears,
The card from the little sidewalk shack
Has been mistakenly given to the trashman,
The lovely morn of our love
Has been covered with black curtains,
And the night in his unrelenting weight
Has descended upon us.
My hands have started to find,
The alloy in your golden skin,
And the surprising gentleness of my touch
(As you say), has become impatient like knife,
We’re ready to scratch each other, ever deeper
With the talons on our tongues,
Ready to admire the stunning artwork,
Of souls wounded for ever.
It’s inevitable, we can’t stop ourselves,
Inevitable as tissues that blend only to repulse,
Let’s see if at the end we can still kneel
Together at the dreadful altar of love.