Mesmerized by a sight
Of an angel cloaked with sin, I was
Doomed to be consumed by whispers
Of a mind's fixated rasp
On a vision seducing
That metaphors, in exhaustion, in silence died
And was tattoed painless and quiescent
On the mind;
An addiction demoting the soul
From ashes to fire,
Drumming the heart a tune
Long ago forbidden.
Thirst quenched only, and only, when desire,
Iris to iris,
—thus is this secret between Heaven and I.