The best dresses are worn to be removed
like flashy packaging on chocolate.
I promised you our love would mountains move;
the earth has shattered and we have caused it.
Tonight we live; tonight we shall cavort.
And I am thankful for la petite mort.
Why did you leave? We had barely begun;
there was so much yet for us to explore.
I call you daily but my calls you shun.
Am I the only one looking for more?
Your love is gone; it was that night’s escort.
But at least I had la petite mort.
Carpe noctem is the creed you live by.
What of those who search for something greater?
They are left to their fate, left to their cries,
left used by a sexual viator.
My dreams of love your actions did just thwart
thus I feel empty for la petite mort.