project #1

Persephone: side effects may include dying

Love is an arms race
With spitfire and poison throwing dart guns
The virgins are clipping their wings
Coming in the night
Coming in the daytime
Under the brightest stars of all
Driven in the legions
By the blood of their lovers
Avengers of the modern sickness

Love is a disease of the heart
A palpitating mass of citrus peels and lip gloss
With God on the heels of the soldiers
The turning in your stomach
That metallic taste like blood
The smell of burning in the air,
Fires of distant enemies
Floating on frosted kisses and sweet goodbyes
Girding your loins with the youth of the innocent

Love is a drug-run industry
Faulty enzymes in a synaptic gap
Rolling through bodies like death bells
Made of pin pricks and numbness
Temporary hysterical blindness

Love is moving eight inches deeper
And breaking your nails off in the desire
The soft crinkle of cotton sheets
The need for eccentricity
And the waking up beside your smooth soft body

Love is Persephone
And songs for the falling
Warning: side effects may include death