If someday your fascinating eyes grow playful
And you turn your assassins knife to my heart...
Held in frightening play,
Yet not to tear me apart.

If someday you wonder if my inners are pretty,
(Like you claim my outer frame to be.)
And you decide to peel back my skin,
And peer into the rest of me..
If someday you decide it could be fun to **** me?

I will not be sorry
I will not be sad
Instead? I will be happy of the times we've had.

I'll remember how long your words held me
And the shivers given by your touch.
The degrees of sharpness in your teeth
And yet how you weren't too rough.

I'll remember Winter days.
And how they passed in a daze.
I'll remember saying everything to you twice,
And you never seeming to mind.

I'll recall the promises you made
And the sanity we resisted so well.
I'll dream of every second spent with you,
And being caught under your spell.

You'll seriously hold the blade
And speak quiet words to me.
And I'll think it rather charming,
Such particularity.

You'll grin as you trace it along
that grin I love to see.
You'll tell me it's a joke,
As if you'd ever dispose of me!

And lost in my memories,
I'll forget to be terrified.
I will look into your eyes,
and then I shall smile.

You'd allow the knife to fall
and you'd remain all mine.