Her hand fell upon me as the dawn
New, vibrant in its willingness to learn me
One caress and - like wind - swept my features into disarray
Holding fast, steady as always
Ne’er a slave to desire, it has me now
And I fall prey to it eyes wide and blind
She dips her image into me and it fails to retreat
Becoming me, yet still she holds her own desires aloft
I am, though I become, though I rage, still I am
And it is that which I am that begs for release
Her soft hues and dainty scent betray me
I am, though now alone, though now recoiled, still I am
She has what she came for, and I a bitter remorse
It clings to me, reminding me of wounds fresh like warm blood
I am, though I fade, though I wither, still I am
And so it goes that she forgets and moves on
My transgressions haunting; my regressions inhibiting
I am, though now inside, though now destroyed, I am no longer