A Good Heart

The curse remains as I bleed,

A good heart is a disease, indeed,

The desire kneads me when I eat,

These peasants fill my heart eagerly. 

.

My heart's rusty,

Gulp its tar,

You capitulate, which makes my knees wobble and eek,

I love consuming your passive leaves. 

.

You need me inside your sacral tree, 

Sexual desire fumes the pleas.

We must court and be 

Your desires speak archly. 

.

This dark reverie that you've enriched

Fits the perfect, little image:

The one where you think you'll win my innocence. 

.

Stare through the translucent glaze,

And desire the golden plate,

The one that will tear your vindications,

And prolong your baggage's expiration. 

.

The curse leaves me,

Off it flees!

My good heart has been redeemed, 

I smirk as your torment is my erotic disease.