If I tell you you are my sun and stars,
it is only because you stole them from my
sky and draped them over your shoulders
like a fur pelt apathetically ripped
from a now naked and ****** bear.
If I say you are my moon and dreams,
it is only because you greedily plucked
it from my eye and strung it up with that
chain around your neck, so that it can
light the vile back alleys of my nightmares.
If I tell you that you are my beating heart,
it is only because you hammered and
twisted until it fit comfortably
around your finger so I wouldn't know
the beating of it without your hand.
If I say you are my errant soul,
it is only because you crushed and
ground until only fine powder remained
and brushed it below your brow so I wouldn't
know it's pull without looking to your eyes.
If I ask why you took my being and vanished,
it is only to try to make you think.
I already know the answer.