A sip of smoke finds a path,
Around the spirals of my fate.
The blur of individuality
Stops the painful memory
Of taking my fingertips,
My identity,
Into your soft lips.
What do you think now,
naive ancient eternal love?
Do you remember waking up
To find my hair crawling towards your teeth?
I slowly felt nocturnal curls pull me back to your tongue.
So I cut it all off,
And painted my visage with impulsive creativity.
Your incandescent presence
Drips with Parisian chords of street harps
Praying Hallelujah to the Sacre Coeur steps.
Please make this tremble of blood
Return to a mortal rhythm.
These disjointed bones of our past portrait
Gaze up from the grave we carelessly built.
Now, I return to see the selfish paint
I threw upon her face.
Those golden highlights sing alongside
the praise of starlight,
Beneath the temporal dust of our separation.
I can't bare to look at you,
So I mar my own past perfection,
With some new hope to understand
The graveyard you abandoned so long ago.