Like the shadow of a flame,
you enter my thoughts and wreak havoc in my brain.
You consume all that is good and sane,
then leave me alone in darkness and pain.
My dear oracle of doom,
grant this prophet a sign...
that your heart is open and ready for mine,
so I can read you my poem under the moon’s cold hue.
I am nothing more than an addict.
I inhale you through my eyes,
and like opium, you consume my thoughts and mind
and I won’t fight it.