Vie Sauvage

My old seductive mistress,
Modern fatal mystic;
Antique cool kisses.

Chaotic we were;
modest.
Genuine we were;
bitter.

The days when we were savages,
Those nights we bled so lonesome.
Adulterous we had become.

All dolled up
with our golden liquid.
That vain fruitless poison.

We would fade into the Ellipsoidal Grey,
boyish and alien.
Morning sun;
A bitter cold crimson.