Words of fire roll softly thru stale air,
Like plumes of dying blossoms
They fade away, as if they were never there
Though I know I haven't lost them

I imagine you'd take back each  breath
But they've settled down inside me
Like resin from a cigarette
Black. Malignant. Sticky.

Assumptions, bringing so much doubt
Suspicions.  
Oh, my jealous lover.
Little means what it was once about
And there is less to be uncovered.

Faithful, yet no faith in me?
So you weave a cage so pretty
To keep me under lock and key
And free you from such worry.

I don't feel like your paramore
In a love you steer towards woe
If you would open up your dear bird's door
You'd see.  I would not go.