Sweet Onions

As I cut the sweet onions the Angel whisper's in my ear, giving me visions of the one I love. I know not what it means, only that it is upon me. My knife is working on it's own, I only hold the handle, slicing and dicing to the beating of my heart. My thoughts go beyond today, to days and mistakes that I can not fix ever. Am I a martyr to Romance and Passion, did I not embrace Love enough ? I'm sure the Devil whispered in my ear then, taking me to deserted streets and cheap motel rooms, where names matter little at all, only the money in your pocket. She was with me, with the Devil whispering to her, maybe she the one I Love showed me how to forget the day and live just a few minutes at a time. The smell of the sweet onions seems to pour into me bringing a touch of reality back. The tears they bring is covering up the real ones. The Angel grants me one last look of her face as I tell the Devil to whisper to someone else.