I turn out the lights And he turns on the radio, And it's almost like a routine The way he approaches the bed And I approach him. We smile at each other With other people On our minds. We start with a gentle peck And then probably a kiss Of feelings close to disgust. He kisses my scars Scars that remind me of wounds- Wounds that he wasn't a part of. It isn't love And we both are in pain, And we make love, A good night's sleep is preordained. I turn out the lights Inside my head as well. "Oh, stop thinking." He turns on the radio And a million thoughts Approach his mind. Tomorrow, We shall not remember each other for I have someone else to go to And he has someone else in his mind. But we'll smile at each other- Smile close to disgust. And we'll call it love When naked bodies meet Knowing not, That love it is not. For our naked souls await To be revealed And a good conversation Was our sole need.
Welcome to Paraferno - this is the story of a lackadaisically frantic and whimsical dame on an oneiric infernal paradise ;-)