A Boy With Roses

The Price of Pleasure

I ride my bike through the cold park
Watching the night bleed little axioms
Drowning in perfect solitude
Like a merchant for speed, echoing with impulse 
I wait for your love
Craving the rush of your touch
Pure soul like pure snow
Coaxing the wax of your lust 
Your presence smiles like a stranger 
Wearing tousled hair and pink cheeks
A windswept wayfarer with starless eyes
Blazing like ashes, candid and extreme 
I listen to your sunrise bells
The alchemy of your acumen
Love, your bailiwick
Ruled by changing rhythms
Addicted to the tears we shed
I trace myself along the architecture 
Alongshore, coming back to you 
Soft moments of lust pulse through my vibrant bones 
Pains I ignore, the telephone 
Is this the price of pleasure?