Unholy matrimony

A tapestry of love's desire
stitched and weaved with memories
unravels in two hearts apart
and lays bare the needs of soul.

But threads of past intensity
unrelenting stay attached
like spirit hands in devil lands
won't leave well enough alone.

In this unholy matrimony
a mind entwined can't disengage
from the snap and crackle, pop,
of sparks growing into flames.

‘tis love or not this feel of ... you
or the glory be divine
but drip, drip - flick the tears
into a watering hole
where bulls quench hindsight thirst
in the twilight of regret.

And this preordained affair
like a dream to disappear
when the sun in love with other moons
sinks beneath potential
and lies static like an honour wreath
placed upon a grave.

Oh, grave, but ‘twas a maiden fair
who wore garlands in her hair
that now must hold the dead weight
of a lover turned to servant
of this transitory phase
deemed a human life
in the parlance of the wise.

Dust to dust but spirit lust
in love's unacknowledged fire
snaps and crackles, pops,
from midnight to daylight
until the world tilts sideways
and ... we all come tumbling down!