No longer is my divine identity there.

Instead, I've been replaced
With parts of pleasure-
The manufacturer: an unpleased man.

I am to only have a type of plastic confidence
If I am to get anywhere

And insecurity so lavishly chokes
Like a dozen little black pearls
To a few red moons
All meticulously dipped into the purply-blue
Of God's great typhoons.

I can't stand to touch the needle.
Because when I do, my head is through.
Please, I can't stand anything new.

This man that plays with fire-
Of his false truths, I am the buyer.

Dear God, he makes me tired
but yet I am still a hard-wired sucker for this liar.

Keep making a name for yourself,
but don't forget how mine tastes in you mouth.

Because the second its spit out,
your mind and heart can't help but follow.

Then, you'll be left a man of heavy wax
or even worse - completely hollow.

Your color is of the freckled new moon,
Hair as black as the matter scattered all plain.

Teeth coated by the ocean's pearls
Though one or two have strayed.

Far from looking new,
you came to me.

Yet I love you all the same.

I am more than simple and less than complex;
I am everything all at once.
And very naked of course.

So he picked me straight out
of his favorite magazine,
a forever piece.

I am an artifact of events which all led here
I'm born of liquid love that all bred here
I'm the native speaker of all kept here

Every little thing he is
and I cannot be for anything more
than every little thing he is to me.

I cannot let go, no.
No, I insist I am lacing within
a velvet-kissed bliss.

This bliss had before come to me
only a dream,
so frightening and foreign.

But it's here now, and now, and always.
And before he existed himself and all his absoluteness.
And I and me
and a decree, quite deadly

Deadly to some pearly body.
A shell manifested by some bad habit.
Some habit, and something starving won't ****.
God, the vanity of this woman.