Faceless and nameless, I will hang

your portrait on my wall of fantasies

brush strokes of secrets and lies

painted by my carmine rage.

Portrait of passion ignites

with drops of molten blood.

Your rapture shines in sanguine fluid

dripping claret syrup onto canvas

as you lay like corpse upon my bed,

my frozen fingers dipping paintbrush

into fresh container of crimson liquid,

the bruised wine of fresh grapes.

Blemished hands clamp together

skimming droplets over crumpled skin.

I cherish my masterpiece of copper art,

shining face of rapture, as pigment

spurts in air and congeals in my memory.

Hues dry as I recreate your life before death.

You run your words along my spine

when you whisper my name.

Husky voice of passionate embrace

bringing me to heights of want,

surfing your waves of need,

yielding to wafted passion

cushioned deeply in my ear.

You tenderly wrap my name

in gossamer tissues of love

opening to my name

chiseled in granite

for all eternity,

murmured flames

of my identity.

Name resonates

through floating echoes

and is absorbed

through my skin.

Pivotal, poetic order, must needs be 14 lines exactly

Regulated pattern, impossible to break

Only Prose laughs, breaks free of common bonds

Says what it wants to say, is as long as it wants to be

Enough! It says. Have mercy, and make this the end

I find heaven with you, and I truly hope that the Gods do not notice we have sneaked into their territory because they would cast us down in a split second. These bones of ours were not built to survive such a paralyzingly fall, so for the sake of this little paradise we have risked everything for, let us please remain quiet.

A sharp edge of your anger.

An empty pit of my remorse.

Collided, and lit on fire.

Both will lose.

None will see the light again.

Say goodbye to your steady smile.

Say hello to your new sense of self.

It's the end of what the wind blew so freely. It's the end of what you knew so well.