Love is a fickle whore;

Except in relation to you.

Love is faithful and loyal to you.

The thoughts of you goad Love,

Love is unable to dismiss you.

Love plays and jokes,

Then your whispers chain Love

To your metaphorical bedpost.

Love dreams only of you,

Nightly, in honest truth.

Love cannot wash Loveself of your

Poisonous whispers.

Your destructive sonata echoes

And Love is but the helpless violin.