Lips touch
Eyes widen
And breath is lost
A drunken ecstasy consumes you once again

The wicked puppeteer laughs
As you become tangled in the wires
While doing your drunken love dance

I am your Cursed Cythera
Come here so I can kiss you deadly
My lips the banshee
My tongue the Reaper
Come play a love-game with Little Miss Death

I wanna have them lips like Morphine
To play with your life every time we embrace
With a kiss bound to plow you into the ground
Sending your heart racing along the road of desire
I bet I'll have you dreaming of the taste

Like a fool drugged up on Romance
You'll come crawling to brush these lips
And I will happily send you into your next coma
© Alyssa Criss
 
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