Seeing you once again,
So very much makes me long
For that sweetness of your sting

And the heat, which throbs bright red
Pumping out an intoxicating cocktail
To rush throughout my skin.

Who knew such poison could be 'friend'?
Desires now past are to become craved.
I **** my throbbing wound going to the grave.

Yet, I do not mourn, I do not rage nor rave.
It is done and I am too satisfied to die
With you upon my lips.