My lover's eyes
have not yet met mine
But oh how alive
we both felt in the night.
If her smiles are the kisses
of sweet dreams
then why must there be blisters
where her lips did touch mine.
If her heart and soul
both stand the pure
then why must she and I
stand alone and apart.
If my lover did call my name
tell her I did not exist
for a heart as sweet as venom
died in a blistered kiss.