COBWEBS OF TIME

I could not
Have first
Met
You
 if 
I had
Not liked
You
I could not
Have touched 
You 
if I had not 
Loved 
you
I could not
Have 
let
Our tongues
Sipped
The tips
Of
Desire
If there
Was no
Passion
And pain
In equal
Amounts
Versus 
The misery
You soured my 

sweetness with
Speckled
doubt
Nothing...
All that is
Left is
My memory
Of rumpled
Sheets
Debussy
Lit by
Lanterns
And
The excitement
Hidden
With
Cobwebs  of 

complications
Spilled.
No man
Shall
Touch 
Me
Any
Where
Or time
Again
It remains
Pure
Otherwise
I shall
Die
From
Lies
Which I
Don't wish
To
Live
And I do
Not
Care