Her name....
I'll never tell...
I simply called her lovely...
I remember thinking to myself
A girl like this, could lead to a need
for a tiny little heart shaped coffin.
It still haunts me occasionally.
Oh the memories...
She painted erotic pictures in the back of my mind,
just by looking into my eyes.
And I hit the floor like a ghost,
who'd just seen his own reflection.
She purred a deep, warm moan when I kissed her.
And all the world turned the color of lust.
(just a shade darker than blood red)
She tore away my old armor,
like so much tissue paper.
And freed my wings from atrophy.
She said she could see inside of me.
And to my astonishment, she proved it.
God, these memories.
They're adding up to negatives.
Regret has all the perks of cancer,
without the benefit of an ending.
