Smells the air
Un cazador de corazones.
Lust is sound
For a trigger-hair
Un rompecorazones.
No distractions
No peace.
Just darkness
And a silent invasion
In his sleep.
Bruised like a fetish
It’s camouflage.
Stained
With his blood and tears
Like an unnamed God.
Takes it too far
It’s called edging
Un cazador de corazones.
Flesh is charred
Poor romantic fledgling
Un rompecorazones.
No emotions
No remorse.
He chose to lay down
In the charging path
Of this wild horse.
His vulnerability
So tempting it must be punctured.
His bleeding love
So warm and thick
His heart can only coexist
With this hunter ruptured.
Put it on a stake
Wear it around this neck.
Broken love
Is black magic
It is a whispered incantation
One never forgets.
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