Tears of pleasure,
tears of pain,
I fear both
make me feel
the same.
When your eyes
brace for the rain,
it seems
you and I
can both be saved.
Your sobs
are of
my consequence.
I swim to see
a better man.
Then I succumb
to bathe again
until your showers
never end.
I’ve never heard
such tragic joy
than when
your anguish
makes a noise.
Cry for me.
Drown out your voice.
For once it’s dry,
I’ll have no choice.
I’ll knife you,
my dear,
just for the thrill
of knowing that
you can be killed.
I’ll nurse you,
always,
right back to health,
but only once
I give you
the tours of hell.
