Aztec Priest

My love is dark and beautiful My love is haunting strange My love is an Aztec priest With offerings of pain. He holds my heart within his fist My chest bleeding from the thrust Of his sharp black obsidian knife In fulfillment of his blood lust. Somehow I still walk and talk And engage in life quotidian But often view his disdainful face With guilty fascination. Someday I’ll reclaim what’s mine Though he lifts it so triumphantly My heart beating in his sweaty grip As he walks so blindly past me. This blindness I do plan to make Permanent, in revenge to fit His crime, for I now have a wicked knife And I’m learning how to use it. My heart now back where it belongs His rage has no power to move me I have placed his eyes in a marble bust And I smile upon them daily.