baby i crave rose-petaled
cigarette romance,
let the smoke rise from my lungs
and curl through your canals
caress you in dark alleys and
lead your lips to embrace hushed defeat
reflected in the moon-lit puddles at your feet.

baby i desire the electric plume
of your poisonous touch,
every meeting of our skin causes volcanoes to erupt
spewing lava from my eyes but
my phoenix feathers will keep us
from plummeting asunder.

baby i get lost in the technicolor
pictures playing in slow-motion-reverse,
where sugar coats the screen
from the edges inward, building mountains of
sticky residue for my memories to fossilize into.

baby i chase after loud-mouthed contradictions
with pupils the size of dimes,
i fall in love with vagabonds
and flippant lost causes
who commit heartfelt crimes.

baby i'll track down every demon in you
and take them all out to lunch,
i'll piece together your black hole tar soul
collage of a universe waiting to burst forth,
and i'll hold onto the remnants of whispered secrets
until my museum of you turns back into a live exhibit.