the birth and death of love and lust

My veins rotting with lust and taunting desire.
My heart, unfiltered, pumping pungent incurable passion.
Devouring every molecule of my flesh,
Like a drug dragging through my blood.
Conceiving thoughts of your soft lips trickling down my neck.
Our legs tangled together.
Our hearts racing like hummingbirds.
Feverish face turning pink, breathing as if each breath were my first.

We have become but only rotten fruit,
To the touch we fall apart.
No reviving.
No resurrection.
Just a mess of desolate decaying matter that was
Once a fresh ripe
Savory decadent ecstasy.

Now there lies our dead weary plod of unity
Like a corpse under the floorboard.
A nervous havoc.
The stench of our dead future still
Haunts me as I crawl into my cold empty bed
Where once your warm body welcomed me.

Indulgence of your venom.
My heart seems to ache for you, to be an empty vessel
Yet I can see the gleaming end of this murky tunnel.
But still look in the other direction in disbelief.
Compulsively tormenting myself.