Falter, as I see fit to falter,
Smile, as you’ll see you’ll ought to smile,
Dance as the moon changes shape,
Fall as you’ll do upon the day of your death.
Beauty is over you,
It has run off with the next,
The next admirer.
Make me a flower,
Covered in ivory melt,
Make me a bed,
Whisked from danger’s threads.
Sing me a song,
Oh, fairest damsel,
Sing me that song.
The one where glaciers shine rotten
Specks of unspoken misery.
The one that bleeds like you do.
Tell me with truth,
Am I in love with something of worth?
Love has always been a shape,
Not a torn smile,
But a vivid one.
Never that which I could not perceive,
To be the shape of a scar,
The one that I’ve not ever recognized.
We are lovers with nothing bared,
We are sinners with no one paired,
Between our arms,
With every alarm.
Each of our sights,
Are bred for the heated love,
One that is most beautiful,
When we share in our plights.
Tell me truthfully, without the smile,
Are you cunning, or are you truthful?