I could play the woman with my eyes,
her favourite song became an overture that unfolded across the starless, Godless nights,
and even in a fast sleep, I could satisfy her hungry sighs,
as we joined hallowed hands in our Hollywood dreams,
leading the kind of lives that we could never regret.
I thought about her as I watched the ferries froing and toing,
all weekend, achieving nothing but the certainty that she was buried deep within my bones.
I let her feast from the field of her fantasies,
her smile as wide and bright as her ambitions,
aimed at the core of my contrition,
until there is no shame,
just shaking and surreal sighing.
She told me that she stopped believing in God as she grew,
and then she started again,
when she found gold in my glossy pout.
Burning bridges for warmth,
we weathered the winter,
reborn in sweet Spring,
as the face of true love.