She winked from
across the ocean-
a room full of trends
and witicisms-
I\'m poison to her prey.
Cram my frame
into a false thought,
lock my pheromones away.
These things only hurt
in the end.
Progressive enchantment;
the perfume swirls,
flirting with my senses.
That tiny dress
is my personal prison.
I\'ve lost it again,
I\'ve lost my mind.