Alas, Love ain’t a Factor

When the sun created parallel slits of light on the maple floor, I was awake. 

 One eye open to watch the day break. 

 The heat intensifies under green artichoke quilts. 

 Pealing the layers back, he ate my heart with little guilt. 

 Exponential potentials incidentally daggered in a violent change of season.

  You are the heretic of love treason

The hours stale decay in time

I promise for You, I’ll no longer rhyme.