exhale the stars | ✓

sinful renaissance

breathless laughter and burning skin,
crimson silk against raspberry grins,
affection given with feverish ease,
doubts chased by primal ecstasy;

his calloused hands are littered with scars,
and yet, in her eyes, they're priceless stars,
hints of a past filled with troubles and qualms,
exchanged for galaxies he holds in his palms;

sultry smirks painted upon delicate faces,
weak promises mixed with immoral embraces,
sunlight pours in, washing the room aglow,
devilish nature lurking behind a radiant halo;

a garden of eden reduced to dying wildlands,
crooked flowers blooming from rough demands,
bruises taking shape in the shade of scarlet wine,
gifted with nothing but apathy time after time;

ruination creeps closer as foolish hope rises still,
desire calling it near as indifference takes its fill,
cologne scent sharper than a rose hiding thorns,
cigarette smoke coupled with pure, mocking scorn;

running into a trap so easily foreseen,
spiraling down a path meant to demean,
inevitable loss that's already in motion,
regret interlaced with wavering devotion.

➙ when lust is mistaken for love