My lover planted flowers in the valley of my breasts

Where his teeth had grazed.

Adorned with nascent flowers, white and green,

The valley turned hollow right as I breathed.

He had been fishing for something to eat,

He craved a piece but stole my heart in its entirety.

 

And never returned it to me.

 

My lover set sail 

With a purpose too profound to explain.

His journey, spanning a thousand waves, 

Culminated in a tombstone bearing my name,

As my beating heart in his palms lay

Blue, bloodied, slain.

 

He never returned to me.

 

My lover charmed the guests at the altar,

Sandwiched between his teeth his bride's garter.

Lost in utopia, his eyes, with love, smouldered,

And the only language spoken that night was unabashed laughter.

Buried in red, I heard my spirit shatter

Louder than the obnoxious clinks and the wedding chatter.

 

I still wish he returned to me.

 

My lover falls face down with a knife in his spine.

A wake clouds the wedding, his grave now my shrine.

I seek solace in my old habits, the grotesque I romanticize.

Emboldened by the wedding bells' hymns and chimes,

I kiss his corpse as his bride inconsolably cries.

I steal him away from the world, my ingenious crime. 

 

I can't believe he returned to me.

 

(P.S. Happy Belated Halloween!)