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Description

"7 Days of Rain"
One week of rain, when love is gone, awaiting her return - until that time, we turn and spin as lover’s fuel the burn.
With mascara running down my cheek and rebellion at my back, I sit along the misty edge, fingernails painted black.

In my heart – here, not apart, lives all that breathes love true. If I love me and you love you, this is how the world stays blue.
In dark of heart, I played my part, giving cover to my shame, not showing my love for one of the same, in a puppet’s martyred lover’s game.
If she loves me, and I love her, what’s nasty in our match, let it occur, like cats we purr – don’t mettle in our patch.
But for those like you, who judge and rule, we’re forced to play the jest and fool.
Her hairs’ like mine, her body, too – we please each other through and through, and in the night, where darkness slips, we dare to meet our blackened lips.
By lipstick rage and sultry days, we march along and fight, to bring our kind the power true to ever plant our might!
The week will pass, the rain will fall, but we’ll receive our call, desires birthed, a Siren’s worth, for one, for two, for all…
---Dark Riddle

Description

"7 Days of Rain"
One week of rain, when love is gone, awaiting her return - until that time, we turn and spin as lover’s fuel the burn.
With mascara running down my cheek and rebellion at my back, I sit along the misty edge, fingernails painted black.

In my heart – here, not apart, lives all that breathes love true. If I love me and you love you, this is how the world stays blue.
In dark of heart, I played my part, giving cover to my shame, not showing my love for one of the same, in a puppet’s martyred lover’s game.
If she loves me, and I love her, what’s nasty in our match, let it occur, like cats we purr – don’t mettle in our patch.
But for those like you, who judge and rule, we’re forced to play the jest and fool.
Her hairs’ like mine, her body, too – we please each other through and through, and in the night, where darkness slips, we dare to meet our blackened lips.
By lipstick rage and sultry days, we march along and fight, to bring our kind the power true to ever plant our might!
The week will pass, the rain will fall, but we’ll receive our call, desires birthed, a Siren’s worth, for one, for two, for all…
---Dark Riddle