Your words glisten
and the stars dull in comparison
to the honey that flows
from your Elven lips.
Trembling in anticipation
for a single glance
a little smile
anything to disprove the horrid notion of
I was rewarded.
You lifted me up and spun me
round and round with your warm words
and golden smiles
and your eyes
Drowning in pools of languid desire,
Head over shoulders over heels and tumbled
into seeming nothingness
until the broken promises of tomorrow
and my heart was filled with
deep, familiar longing.
Still, from your lips
Enticing honey, calling me, calling me
I continued making excuses,
even as the golden staircases gave way
to earthen plains
Still, I treaded on;
feet burning, soles bleeding
I kept carving new lines and channels
“He was busy doing something last night”,
“He’s just worried about something else”…
Until darkness fell
and finally the lies gave way into bliss-less truth.
He called me Stacey.
written July 22, 2009