We Meet in Venice

Unreel yourself back in time to this masquerade with ice cream,
This drug and perfume map of our meeting,
Masked, in a back alley, your best taffeta frock lifted high
And my cock deep in your cunt, like the moon in the clouds.

The mouth of Tiziano has kissed each of these bridges,
Departing the giant lotus for the woman who waits,
Unable to breathe for his absence, colouring in his soul
With her own colours until it tears her apart with impossible darkness.

She heals him with her angel blood, as so often before.
God kills her and takes her kindness, like one who always needs more love
To love eternally.