Ashen’s the rose grown from this romance’s ruin:
Another victim gone rigor mortis from the sting
Of a vixen unhinged. The once warm, mezzo-soprano hymns
Of a summer-love’s Romeo-charm now moribund:
Blizzard-muzzled t’sing the song of Misery’s
jigsaw puzzled stanzas.
The crimson corollas weep, cat-o-nine-tails
whipped and whimpering
from their mambo-b-beat b-beating heart
cringed in arrhythmia
‘til all its ichor she’s guzzled like ail out of her sadistic
Syringe plunged into my chest damn-near cardiac arrest.
Nothing is spared from her succubus binge:
Not tooth or nail,
Nor freckle or hair.
The scalp impaled
Beyond repair.
A smorgasbord of scheming schmooze
‘til the final harpy’s chord fizzles on the horizon
& all that remain’s a heap
of scabby skin ‘n’ bone
all alone,
Smoking atop a pyre of petals singed.
But alas, I’m the fool, the fool t’keep
loving her yet again and again.