Your eyes beseeched my welcoming form

and I am not one to easily resist

Before, they have done to me such harm

but your eyes, my darling, they continue to exist

Your lips, so sweet, like cake and nectar

but your façade of a Hannibal Lecter

a want, a lust, for my aroma

not aware of the truth of my persona

Beezlebub, whose eyes are so dark

can no longer influence my mirror

but now your soul is imprinting a mark

over the tissue caused by a blunt scissor