Signs

i love to love
your batted eyes,
cages of rumours
in disguise, to kiss
and tear
upon your hiss,
lips to ride to
heaven's gates:

without the cultish hide:
when you escaped out of prison,
having killed a man
for raping you,
it was deliriously beautiful
the smile

that launched a thousand and one
complaints, settlements to
land every sailor
upon your lusty shores:

i was so quite sure that
i loved you fair, fairest
my dear dare
cept i stole your house,
your money
i admit
i'm a louse.

making love to you
was like
cooking chinese food
raw and yet tasty
like sushi
yet composed,
not so fishy
as to admit
impediments.

the harley
i gave to hurley
all whirlly
and dervish,
and to you
i submitted my love,
and yet
when you came out,
you looked dirty and shaggy
and too
civilized.