Falling in Lust

I’ve never understood  
The intense, lustful kind of love. 
“Love” that rather than blinding  
Narrows the vision  
To seeing skin, muscle, and bone  
Like selecting a meal or a slave.

Subsistence to keep from facing reality.  
Expectations carve them away  
Until they are consumed by disillusionment  
And hungry once more.
A slave to ego  
To the mirror and the hourglass.  

Breathlessly they fall. 
As they reach terminal velocity
They feel light and free. 
See a light up ahead  
Which they assume to be the gates of heaven  
But could just as easily be the flames of hell. 
They fall like angels into darkness. 
They fall from the truth. 

Muscle turns to fat. 
Skin loosens and melts down their faces. 
Bones protrude from beneath their skin. 
Decaying steaks left out in the sun. 
They fall face first through time  
Completely unprepared. 

Make up which once highlighted her cheekbones  
Forms muddy rivers in the lines of her face. 
His charming countenance  
Turns into Munch’s “The Scream”. 
They fool no one but themselves  
And eventually  
They cannot fool each other.  

Where is the beauty they once fell for?
Where is the love that was once shared?
It was built fragile like the mirror  
Fleeting like the reflection  
And time saw it shatter. 

No longer in love with each other  
But a shared memory  
They fell in lust long ago  
And they burned in the flames. 

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