Devilish Love

I love you like the winter hates the spring:

   Because it’s hot and wild and full of youth.
I want you like a lie wants everything
   To kneel to its perversion of the truth.
I think of you the way life thinks of death:
   As something that will end my lonely state.
I reach for you the way lungs reach for breath
   When a man tries not to asphyxiate.
I need you like the healthy need no cure.
   I venerate you like Scrooge covets gold.
I fear you like an angel trusts the pure.
   I worship you like youth pities the old.
      From one to ten, I love you at eleven
      The way hell hates all things that smell of heaven.

Copyright 2013 Matthew J Wells