Honeymoon

Drinking reluctantly from the Lethe
A wine the flavor of aging pomegranates.
Turning to you, greeted with the smug realization
That this appetence is a camouflage for what resembles rage again.
Brontide, anger, and coffee later,
You still care but don't ever let me know.
Instead, take me to the Duomo seen from the Belvedere.
I don't know Florence; I do not care for you, my dear.

I watched her walk away from me,
I heard her say goodbye then leave.
"Help me pass the time," I said, as fugitives
Like Bonnie and Clyde; beauty and
Sin tend to seep in.
The faces she makes, the fights she initiates,
The danger and hopelessness of it all.
Despite this and despite that,
I gazed around and saw that before us a Paradise ensued.
The skies above reflected the flames of
Hell
Below,
And she wondered how something so horrifying could be so.
Sometimes I question if she'll understand
That despite this and despite that,
In spite of all that we've torn and ran,
We've remained essentially the same.

This is my kingdom.

Therein her languid tongue is my palace.
"Judge, jury, and executioner!", I proclaim
As I catch glimpse of her honey hues and white-hot gaze.

Had I known long ago what is now dreadfully unavoidable
Never would I have indulged from
The devil's crystal.
Sanguine, tender,
Blatantly irresistible.
This is all sickening.
Transfiguration is the same as adaptation,
Then all this spurs the warrior he says me to be so.

Later, during my sunniest hour,
My former found me screaming.
My former found me weak and kneeling,
Gorging on blissful sorrow.
Of love and paradise, I'll wallow.


This is my first contribution to our little community. I really hope you liked the poem, please lmk what you think!

-Dolores