variations on a theme by eliot

We are the damaged men
We are the wounded men
Drawn to you like moths to a flame
Broken and bruised, heartsick and aching,
Knocked about by life's lack of parity and conscience

We come to you, our iceberg-tip of fury
lancing you through the heart
yet covered in soft puppy-fur
smoothing your cheek

Our eyes blaze blue like the sky
blinding you with sunlight
burning you as sunstorms dance across your soul

We wrap you in our spidery arms
burrow into your skin
injecting our venom
paralytic and soothing
until you thrash from withdrawal
or tolerate to its effects

This is the way our pairing ends
This is the way our courtship ends
This is the way our love ends
With a bang
With a cry
And a whimper.

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