Look at the stars:
how they fall.
The way they hit
the pavement.

The stars are falling,
and we must catch them,
you and I.
We must catch them with
our tongues.

The stars are falling,
and we're covered.
Covered in stars.
We dance,
together in the stars.

The pattern in the stars suggests amore;
Feelings of love for you and you alone.
They frolic, dance, as waves do to the shore.
The stars glisten for you, they are your own.
Tell me, my darling, can you see the stars?
How passionately they glimmer for you.
Only they may tell of love such as ours.
They hold the key to our passion so true.
Come what may, the sun still rises at dawn,
And I notice your passions have faded.
In the morning, my heart for you does fawn.
Your expressions, seem distant and jaded.
Do answer me: once the stars cease to shine,
Do you low your glance, ashamed to be mine?

There she sits:
adorned in pearls,
her black curls, laughing.
The women, envious.
The men, entranced.
Her image,
stained in red.

There she kneels:
her master, leaving;
his hand sore,
her face weaker.
He leaves.
His fist,
stained in red.

There she lays:
another day's work, finished.
The man, buttoning his shirt.
Enters his wife
screaming away passion.
Their life together,
stained in red.

There she weeps:
the troubles of the world,
****** onto her shoulders.
She is *****,
unwanted by all.
A once beautiful creature.
The harlot,
stained in red.