Paper Wings

His intentions are good. I can see it through his translucent paper wings, torn and battered, fluttering in the dead wind. His halo hangs on a hinge by his shadowy hair, darkened by my fingertips. He always likes to sit on empty park benches and count how many times my almond eyes open to accept his arrival. How many times must they close, to mourn his departure? Deep in drowning water, I watch him fly with avian dreams, inhaling his innocence and exhaling my addictive personality into his mouth. (Respire and expire) (Carry me on your Broken Wings) He breathes into me And sets me free Let me out of my cage, baby He gives blood To my dry veins. Crimson, burnt with angelic virginity Colliding into my poisoned demon passion with one heart beat (And we crash) B o o m Pumping life into cracked rivers deep and ugly, violet with regret. Heaving, my chest aches for his lily words to Ease the pain Fix me as the inevitability crashes around our bitter ankles “Give me a smile”, rolls off his honey tongue and glides by my failed senses to my past life When I was a tigeress Speaking only silence, tagged by ribbons of swift Quick rips and sultry scents Hidden golden coat Camouflaged by dark streaks of deceit In and out Weaving Traps Sucking the life out of his smiles With one slicing glance (I confess) The greed in me kisses his amethyst magnificence Giving blood to my dry veins Carrying me on Paper Wings