lust has dangerous crimson hair.

i swim in the oceans of her eyes and accept my fate:

i am drowning, like many a silver

sailor before me.

i can taste the heavens when she's around.

 

love is golden in every manner of the word -

his hair, his eyes, his very being is golden.

he insists that i am more; platinum,

diamonds, rubies, more.

 

lust has the words "NEW!" stamped across her cellophane

box. a barbie doll opened on

christmas day, much to my

childish delight.

 

love is familiar, comfortable, homey.

he condemns me to a prison i can't escape,

no doors, no windows.

just a cell of a ribcage.

 

lust is a risk, she is unknown territory.

i have yet to follow the stars and find her underneath.

following the northern one,

i will find my way home.

 

love is the safe choice,

despite what his mother says.

he demands attention,

and goddamnit, he will get it.

 

lust is bold and brilliant,

a neon light on a friday evening,

she swims in fragments of

broken china and green tea.

 

love is discovered, he is endangered.

but i don't know where he is.

he stands on the edge of a compass needle

and beckons me to follow.

 

lust and i are going on a date tomorrow.

i'm thinking of taking her to the arcade,

full of quarter games and bright flashy

pinball machines.

 

love has taken me on ten.

the fair, the beach, that one restaurant

i can't go to anymore

because they always give me what he ordered for me.