Thou Art to Me a Delicious Torment

The sunset of our love,
Reveals that to me,
Thou art to me a delicious torment,
A torment so delicious,
That even now I question the absurdity of it,
like a perfectly constructed plate,
like a perfect rose in spring,
like a perfect nine inning game pitched,
Was I just a game to you?
Something that you could lead on,
Until the moment,
Convenient for you,
You could cover me with a dark blanket,
In which my black dog delights,
Attacking not just my heel,
My black dog,
Pushing me to a place I don’t want to go,
Especially with out you,
But I love you,
But I love you,
YET I love you,
The whole of my mind body and soul, captured by your temptress ways,
How can such a torment,
Be filled with so much love,
Devoid of hate,
Devoid of hate,
For your love,
Is the greatest gift I could have ever known,
To have shared our time together,
The trial and tribulations of our souls mates dance,
The tango,
Now repressed,
As I can barely get dressed,
Waking up to the reality that my delicious torment,
Will stay with me for years to come,
And the love that much longer,
The blues of written escapade,
Trying to escape the unavoidable,
The unrelenting anguish of loves retreat.
Without reason,
Without reasoning,
Just without,
The sunset of our love,
A bright and beautiful sun,
Orange and melting,
Just as our love has always been,
Just as all have seen,
Your soul still ringing in mine,
Still intertwined,
Thou art to me a delicious torment,
At once now,
My everything and my nothing,
As shattered dreams,
Peel back layers of repressed emotion,
By one I never imagined,
Nor could have,
Would leave me like a child,
Sitting in the corner,
Disciplined in a way that makes no sense,
Defying logic,
Though logic has no place in love,
I can wander to and fro,
Through the emotional pictures of my mind,
I can accept the culpability of my own foolishness,
The hurt that I so rarely caused,
Even the hurt of your design,
None of which adds up,
Though the arithmetic of love,
Appears to err on the side of caution,
Save the last dance,
For me,
As one day,
I hope that I can hold you in my arms,
And dance me,
Proper to the end of love,
A tango sublime and surreal,
That only now plays out in my mind,
A final retreat,
Your final retreat,
To the steadfast advance,
My heart sings victorious,
For the love I have been for you,
The many supports I have demonstrated,
The many supports I have lived,
For your love, for your career and definitely in the pursuit of your dreams,
Without question or fault,
And while I grieve,
I also acknowledge and express,
That this love,
Was without question,
The perfect embodiment of the imperfect,
Both you and I,
One hundred, one hundred,
Though now,
You art to me a most delicious torment.



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