I’m here trying to forgive myself again. Looking to redeem each minute before I let promiscuity long surpass you. Longing for touch when that was a most childishly brave thing to do. Before we could thaw, and melt, and boil. In this infested pool of unholy remains, I’ve granted lavender the power over my divide, to condemn me for what’s been planted between your thighs. Your lover knows my name, and your body remembers me, because I hold you to those offenses.