Never to be loved

Never to be touched

Never to be worshipped

Never to be treasured

Like a forgotten perfume

Scent sifting through air of millions

Memories are feeble paintings of the mind

Yet I wish I could find

Someone of oozing allure

Hands soft enough to melt me

Down to rose water

Romantic, cooling

Symbolic to a absent love

Of which unfound

Bruises of care

Fighting onto orry

Sex for money

Marry to convenience

Ring once bought

Once returned

Never wore again by a loving hand

Of a mother, maiden,

Feeble feelings gripped to gold bands

To adorn with jewels of worth

Hand off me

Rings off of me too

The embrace of children

Stamp it out like your cigarette

Burned into my soul and skin

Like a sacred scar of erotic trauma

Never love me again ; for I fear a repeat of that devotion to your smoking embers

In which you call amity