Note: by sound, I mean the sound of repetition. Also, some thematic sounds when it comes to the lines about lips and teeth. Started out as a straight love poem about finding love in the ashes of the metaphorical fire of passionate lust (I always wanted to stomp on the "love as fire" metaphor), but deteriorated into angry madness faster than I'd expected.
When that blaze of passion passes
And my guts no longer
knot,
Not unlike a bed of worms
that wobble like my jellied
knees,
These eyes, this smile
Just don't turn up the dial
(Turn me on, I mean)
I mean,
That fire couldn't last, could it?
And now, I miss our sticky hips.
Play peek-a-boo between your lips
Those teeth they tease me where
they once were bared.
I know the heat is not the
Whole, but holy
shit! Could you not spare one tender look?
That book
your nose is buried in will
harry me,
hurry me
Away from you
From you,
Your Highness
Whose highness lies in the cold neglect
Of a loyal friend
You were loved once, not caught in lust
But now
Fades th' embers to common dust.
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