To Manufactured Heavens
You promised me poisoned lips
That would surely lead to more
I’m not interested in that kind of heaven
Tonight I want something real.
I can’t help it,
It’s just the way I feel.
It may be gone by tomorrow
Discarded on the floor
And I’ll be back to my old ways
With temptations leading me astray
To manufactured heavens
With their moments of release
And the touch of poisoned lips.
I may scream and long for a taste
But tonight I abstain.
I must resist. I want to resist.
That’s wrong.
For I crave deep inside
To be allowed heaven tonight
With its pleasures and its touch.
Heaven.
I want it running through my fingers
While I lay naked in the sweat
Caused from previous actions
Of what some call love.
The taste on my lips
Is to me everything at this present time
More real than my blood is
Or the sight of your naked sex
It pulls all of my concentration
My only thoughts are to have more.
More of this fake reality
That I’ve worked so hard to forget
I hear it’s calling as vividly
As the taste that fills my mouth
My body moving towards a door
Something inside,
some repressed instinct,
Wants to find an exit from my addiction
But the rest of me screams no
And it is overcome in waves of self-centred anger
And I return to your side
For another dance
With another face.
TO MANUFACTURED HEAVENS
By A R J Abranson
25-02-93/19:45 + 21:16
(Taken from 'Wild Card Symphonies')
