Your eyes, your face, your
fingertips.
They were all my favourites.
Your lies, your gaze, your perfect
lips.
I love thee too.
And those words, you would
mumble
in my ears.
They make me shiver
with delight.

I like to trace along the
raised scars
on your back.
Where your wings were
brutally ripped.
They felt
rough and ugly.
But no
you're not.

Was it painful?
Was it not?
When you fell
from above
In that one place called
paradise.

Because I know it does.
When I did fall,
No not from Heaven love
it's Inferno and Hell.