Madonna & Whore

No, no,

This wasn't how it was supposed to be!

I fell in love again.

The virgin oath I took,

It wavers by the hook.

I love him, yes,

But I took an oath swearing that I will

Never fall in love,

Never again.

Perhaps only time will tell, this petty oath...

Perhaps a chance on love is all that holds true--

But I still remember my virgin oath:

To stay sober and wise.

And to remember that:

"Idle hands lend to lustful hands,"

If I may coin the phrase.

Thus, busy hands lead to clean hands--

And none of this lovey dovey business.

But even so,

I remember the banquet party where we met:

Attraction at first sight--

Numbers exchanged on second sight--

And lo here he is that

We meet again!

A chance for something more I sense--

But I cannot-- I will not--

No, it is forbidden!

This pains me so...

For I am no madonna to be taken so,

But a virgin in reconstruction,

Waiting for my eventual death!

And thus, my desires come to an end...

But is that how I really want to live my life?

To live the slow, painful, an almost masochistic way of life?

A slow, painful death, full of mild desire

At the ends of my fingertips and lips--

I'd rather be like the moth in Archy's poem,

and die being "burned up with beauty,"

and be happy... if only for a moment.