Love is a dangerous pleasure

I slept, say with a snake
Occasioned to a trembling,
Each breath breaking into little pieces
Compressed and sealed in a white box
Sewn into my heart;
It makes the shape so heavy
And no melody harder.

I begged for mercy in places not empty
Spread thinner by a cause and a doubt,
He established the color quite cunning
Slender grey with black and red ribbon,
I concentrated on the illusion not to shatter;
Its exaggeration was strangely flattering.

His hands were a sad size for choking
Every bit precocious,
A kind of game and nothing flat on a neck
Everything breaking,
Life once a splendid address
Cut, cut into white
White so lately.

My life toppled and the tears rained down
A void appall till I drowned,
Love knows not of death
Till the sharp scythe of jealousy hacks away;
I was rationed for a day for a week,
The simple sum of my heart occasioned for a heaven.

Copyright © 07/23/2019 lance sheridan®

Love is a dangerous pleasure