Venus' Doom

A perfect cerulean morning,

The liquid-white of the clouds, so aimless in the sky,

In perfect contrast with the burnt-black of your putrid heart,

The faux amorous lies that have fallen so honey-sweet from your pillowy lips,

And like an infection, incurable,

You have seeped into the foolish little veins,

The foolish little veins that I so love,

Nearly disintegrating them into ashes,

Causing them to begin to float away upon a billowy summer's wind,

With childlike petulance I have chased them,

Found every one of Humpty-Dumpty's pieces, and have sewn him together again,

Placing Dorothy back in Oz,

And now that Michelangelo's Venus is beautiful once more,

Glowing brilliantly with youthful radiance,

I am slowly watching your lustful, cheap eyes gaze upon it with that familiar desire,

The one that singes and scorches everything in the wake of it's touch,

But keep watching, bitch,

Your bordello called,

They need their whore back...