you seduce me with your dark suit and your ragged smile, pulling me into a shadowed corner and whispering that you are the king of darkness. i laugh, thinking you're joking, but then you kiss me and wrap whorls of darkness around my young naïve heart. your mouth tastes like fruit but i couldn't place it until you weren't there and i was in the light. it's pomegranate. you tasted like pomegranates.
my mother warned me against the dark, said it did nothing for my complexion and nothing for my heart. she warned me against men and women with helms of darkness, three-headed dogs and brooding expressions. i told her you had none of those things and that you were the best kisser i'd ever met and that i loved you.
i didn't really know you, i mean, it was fumbling in the dark and a pomegranate coloured tongue. i got to know your heart, peppered with seeds. but your shell? well, let's just say you have a helm of darkness and a three-headed dog and a brooding expression.
now every time i miss you i can feel pomegranate seeds scraping at the roof of my mouth.
