(L*ve's a four-letter word,
so, darling, don't you swear)
I'm sorry that I killed you, honey,
it's just that your sweet cold lips
were too entrancing (they hungered my
deft touch)
and your lovely red blood (like
all nice poison apples) seemed to
drip endlessly; tenderly, into my hot melting soul.
It was you that brought me
miracles, honey, it was almost a dream come true;
almost like True love.
Ballerina With Fins
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/fascination/
