The table! It was set for two, only!
The ceremony was just filling in time,
As kindred roistered after the union,
That pair, was putting on an appearance.
Started with the blue spark of a match,
Lighting the central 7-bough candelabra,
Outlining the silhouette of her beauty,
A romantic charm, freeing up the passion.
The craving was never for the taste buds.
From her shoulders, the laced gown dropped,
And slid down her tender inflated chest.
A molten heart, too weak to impede the motion.
Then the oxymoron; violent pleasure!
Can he be soft and hard at the same time?
How is she chaotic and yet so gorgeous?
Immense excitement but only for awhile.
Now muddy waters obfuscated the view,
When good work’s done, intentions are misconstrued!
Out of spite, a great deal perilously spoken,
In too deep, those lips should’ve never parted.
Hour of darkness, the nocturnal storm ravage,
Throwing salt on a precarious open wound.
One by one, the candles commence to expire,
Tainted love, constantly tangled and twisted!
A huge gust blew out the last candle,
Both parties sightless, stumbled and fall,
Ominous manifestation, a chair is broken,
By daybreak, the table was set for one (to bemoan)!