I trace the lines of your needWith the haunt of my departure. I try and see the way your eyes reject my light, My hope. Dispel it, Vanquish, All hope. There is more to this than despair, More to this than angry looks. My scent calls for your removal— A hounding thrill of a pleasure seldom devoured. But when it rings true. Oh. When it rings true, There is nothing more sick in this world, Than the way your eyes reflect my love.... And I can no longer see it.