The crooked smile
That once caressed her eye
Falls flat
Hollow
The honey on my lips
No longer tastes so sweet
Leaving the bitter taste of burnt coffee
My love has grown weary
Arms folded across her breast
Eyes alight with fire
Venom dripping from her tongue
An ocean from her lashes
My love has grown weary
I reach out for her
To find claw tipped fingers
When did I become my father?
I ask her.
When did I become my mother?
She responds.
Our love has grown weary.
So weary …