Our Psycho Love

Our love is psycho. It swims
the muddy rivers, and creeps
on the rocky shores,
slithering through the dark
corners of our world. It bites
into the dew-soaked dawn of
all our tomorrows. It breaks
the tethers that try to bind.
It's wet and it smells of heat
and fire. It tastes like sweet
pea and pomegranate.
Its eyes are full of desire and untamed lust. It's the stain on
the sunset, and the paint on the
pallet. Our hearts beating
together, like a metronome, is
the only thing that calms this
psycho beast called love.