Woven lies. 
Held together by silk. 
White or not, 
Wine stained lips, promised to kill. 

Infatuation, set to grow. 
I don't believe it. 
Tainted words, poison just as slow. 
I am left with a fascination. 

So, I wonder...

Do you dream about sex?

Or about love, better yet?
My demons are my greatest company.

A constant presence, when I get tired of asking you to love me.