Your perfume lingered in my living room

After you where gone.

The memory of skin against skin

Lives on.

 

 

Some would call it sin.

Perhaps, when all is said and done

One man’s fun

Is another’s sin.

 

 

The sky did not fall in

On me or you.

 

 

I am generally comfortable alone.

But I have the phone

Should I need you.

 

 

Your perfume will linger again

And I will recall

What some call the fall.

 

 

Perhaps pleasure and pain

Are somewhat the same.

 

But, if I am only dust

Why does Paradise Lost matter