Part 1

You are empty promises

Served on broken china and half-empty crystals

Of red red wine,

And your service slices through my delicated hands easily,

Creating wounds too wide to close.

This blood, like honey, drips slow and stains

This white blouse--

I think it looks pretty.

I sip the liquidity of your entity,

Losing sobriety with each drop.

Part II

You are half notes with cacophonic tunes

And I prance across your bare floors with such elegance

Only to find bits of glass kissing my skin--

But I do not stop.

I can't.

Blood spills from the ghosts of their lips

and auburn streams streak over the sheened wood.

Your music

                  And my movement

Are

         never

In sync.

Alwaysclashing,

Never agreeing on that perfect rhythm and harmony that,

Once upon a time,

the two had created.