A suicide of love
A suicide of love belongs to the following groups:
All Things Poetic, Artistic, PhilosophicalThis is a blood red masquerade where the couples are dancing with the grace of the dead and the poise of abandoned mannequins left to forever hold their store front poses. Bring your shoes and hit the floor, leading in with an awkward stumble I will fallow to explain my own decadence to love.
A mask will hide your identity but you eyes are unmistakable with a star like shine. They say more than a single tongue could articulate and I would never try to rival their beauty with the words I claim to be so fond of.
Your heart is beating to the rhythm of the piano, holding onto and capturing every note as if this was to not to be remembered but only to course through your veins evaporating the last traces of blood, a suicide of the mind freeing the heart to take control. My heart is beating to the warmth of your exhale. I breathe in and fill my lungs till I am drowning in your every last breath, this is a suicide of the lungs to ensure you are my last breath.
We dance as the colour fades from the walls while the other lovers die. Giving in to time with a slow motion cinematic fall to the floor they are captivating with us in the center. Our eyes never stray from the others, never blinking for fear that our love will be torn apart in that instant. So at least for tonight we dance among the dead, living off each other.
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