If acid were in my blood
My love, your hands would burn.
If tears were made of sin
My dear, your shoulder's pure.
Had your scent been intoxicating
I, your sober companion.
Should my heart be ever so frail
leave me peace, and go.
If my absence troubles thy mind
Your fingertips shall "comfort".
Though stained and ruined once held,
more precious than gold.
Fear a love so potent, now withering
and cold.
-Fa
08/03/20
