Narcissus Paradise

Suddenly, it's like all those months and mistakes
have faded from memory and all I'm left with is you.
My touchstone heartbreak, we keep meeting here in
this inch between skin and sense - but nothing
ever changes. You're still that downcast desirable
with the dimples and deviancy drawing me in. And
I'm still the pawn with the tarnished, charm
bracelet memories (what a Narcissus paradise
my mind must be when every reflection is of you).

You offer a one-on-none relationship for recompense,
a brutal attraction to someone as shallow as the
mirrors they lose themselves inside. Creating mazes
with optical illusions, you seek the echo who lost
herself for you, finding only your glasswork twin at
the centre; an egotistical Romeo encased by the kisses
you pressed so passionately against your own lips.

And, beneath the critic in this glass heart, I still
push pens to reconstruct your snake-bite smile, the
charm that turns feminists to fawns. I'm scribing
one more lullaby for you to lie to, setting the
tone to your serenade, the rhythm for the music
to which you'll crawl back beneath this skin.

Wow. This is truly amazing. I loved the flow.
Great Job! *thumbs up*