Alone he weeps,
Alone she cries;
Apart they seek,
Their hearts spell lies.
His speech smooth butter,
Her heart cast war;
His words soft oil,
The meanings drawn sword.
Anointed with oil his prize,
Curved and alluring she parts;
Strengthened fortress her cry hides,
Spaces between wounded hearts.
Casting out the demons,
She exorcises ingrained pain;
Believing in the change of seasons,
Their love beats alone in vane.
Within the walls producing anointing oil,
Bruised, hurt, she hides raw wounds;
Not pressed or bandaged in rich soil,
Gamine’s smile leaves him too soon.