Cinnamon mixed with coffee beans

and distinctive notes of honey

red spice teasing with a sting

your skin is a delicious palate

that I have the honour to feast on.

You and your wicked machines

pursuing the dreams, ain’t it funny?

you comeback to shamelessly cling

to the “useless and cheap” palette

you so vigorously prey upon.

Stay. Don’t take my snark to heart

especially when it takes you apart

better than the fingers sinking deep

along the plateau and into valleys

expertly pushing your buttons

to create the favourite symphony

of needing, pleading, wanton sounds

that sing my name so beautifully.

Promise to forget the sinful art

come the morning. You can dart

While I’ll be lost, soundly asleep

and feed fairy-tales to you lackeys.

To me your game hardly matters.

The torturous death of chivalry

brought us to the passion that drowns

common sense and elevates brutally.