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.