Such inebriant skin.
I knee down to admire every inch of it.
Such propitious pink.
You tinge my unforgivable sins with it.

These are my hands, they're for you.
I used to use them to eat.
These are my hairs, they're for you.
I used to use them to breathe.

This is my flesh, it's for you.
You taste it when you are in need.
This is my heart, it's for you.
You dump it when I proceed.

We only have one year left.
"No regret." I said.
I will walk with you.

We only have one year left.
"Go forget." You said,
"I can't be with you."

We are friends always, and I should be satified with it.
Everything perfect never belongs to me. I deserve it.