Tiger's eyes:

pinned like a knife

shot like a gun.

All their faces are steel and dead.

(When were they ever different?)

Your eye's are grey as statues,

They were always

as dark as the night to me...

Or did romance die again?

At least this time there's a funeral...

We,

must be,

a shepard and king,

Under that there bridge

where Mary's miscarrying.

The Saviour's dead on the slabs.

All I can do is watch

your heart crack and break.

(like a blue egg)

And hold the blade away from your wrists,

Kiss your scars, that you forget,

but always refuse to forgive.

I wish I could take you away with me,

on my metaphorical pheonix;

to my future:

To drugs and enlightenment;

Best wine and worst people;

Philosophy and passion and bright light syndrome

in London, Paris, New York,

under the stars and amongst the smiles.

Away from this ugly city,

With your arm around me,

And effortlessly forgiven,

Kiss me under the night sky.

every night, forever.