Deem Upon Me Deem upon my heart a wooden stake, My lover so that the pain will be bared, torn from

its edges and shunned into endless lachrymose. Deem upon my heart a whip so that when you wrap metal around my neck and drag me through your chamber I will be tamed. Deem upon my heart your bruise, Master so that the flaw will be a flaunt to your tempting lips purpled in dire need for lurid sorrow in loathing love. Deem upon my heart a choice, Sour Knight where one gambles their thoughts for swift gusts of what they think is love. Deem upon my heart your glare, My sweet when your luscious eyes condemn me into madness and tearful shame when the dancing stops and colors my concrete face. I will be hushed. Deem upon my heart a kiss, Precious one so that you can lick undauntedly my wounds and wash away the salt you whip and cleanse me with. Deem upon my heart a memory, My love so that I can be reminded of how your music clings to your lips and dances melodies on your fingertips flowing from them into the violin which fusses with my soul and sends me dancing. Deem upon my heart a bloody bite, Sweet face so that my bruises will equal my scars. Deem upon my heart your love, My sweet and Damn me.