That boy stole me away into the canary sun

with the persuasion of flashbulb eyes

passion orbitting him on a vast axis

He knew long before I that I could never be his lover

He reveled in the shadows that feasted on the place he left

My corrupted lungs a violent storm in his emptiness

I was only ever meant to fill the spheres between his sheets

to drench the fires in his loins with the floods of my eyes

dripping to mingle with the honeyed sentiments on my tongue

I was there to delight the idle breaches between his calloused fingers,

Naive hands and a credulous mind predisposed to believing in him

Despite the fear of the wolf in his heart tearing me apart

He always had another standing by with wild intent

Her swollen-hearted ardor prickled her skin at the sight of him

But she was only the charred afterthought sent as the precedent

Lingering for his leisurely recovery, he set me on fire for amusement

Caressing the brittle bones of my foundered skeleton, I felt worthy

until his next unannounced departure; I was the unlucky one

The recurring vision of a relentless clarity in its yearning for him

faltering in realizing that I'm his silhouette; a thing to soon forget

The wolf in his heart, as wild as fire, was forever killing me