Tonight they dine to die,
dressed in their Sunday best
across from one another at
a table lit up by gentle, twin
flickering flames-
And so were they!
A love fiery and consuming,
and hearts full of blood
viciously beating within their chest
masqueraded by the cloth of said
Sunday Best.
But tonight they dine to die,
with a poisonous laughter permeating
through the air,
smiles as wide as the horizon,
and conversations that moved
like a locomotive-
They were all but safe in
one another's keep, and
the wine ran down their throats
as violently as the lies that had
come deceitfully dancing
out of them.
Their kisses and carnivorous
natures were all to be for naught,
for though it was love that lived
there at dinner in that space of time,
Aphrodite had now all she had dreamed
and cast,
"Tonight they dine to die."
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