Kill the lover.

You can't take this blame,
it shivers off you just the same...
as the wine down your spine,
the same intoxication that made you mine.

The kiss that ran down my neck,
clutched my throat piercing this flesh,
the vapour that circled this mesh,
our bodies hot and glued together,
whisperings in the heat of loving forever.

The pain and the pleasure,
wrapped us in some sort of secret forbidden treasure,
deep inside with promises you could never hold,
one hand around my mouth, suffocating me, watching me turn cold.

Did you mean to kill the lover?
Love that was always under cover,
did you mean to kill your lover?

Kissing with eyes open was always rare,
making love with absolute care,
this was never a murder scene,
almost definitely something more serene.

However you penetrated what you could,
maybe more than what you possibly should,
you abandoned what you knew true,
how could one possibly still love you?

When you feel your heart grow poor,
and you feel your head smashing into the floor,
with alcohol surrounding your being,
I hope in some way; it's freeing.