Curse Word Warning!

I'm asterisking the bad language below, but you were warned. And you started it. :)

For my dear, friend, it's still a draft and I have no idea where it's going, but here's the poem I promised, a bit late.

Love is a M*****F*****

---for James

Love walks among the not so innocent,
his true nature disguised, hiding the
prison tattoos, the track marks, scabs, open
wounds oozing pus, the steel toe boots, the safety
pins through his eyebrows.

Love rolls in flower petals to mask the
scent of burnt flesh, burned down houses, kerosene
fires and children asleep in their beds. Love
throws the hand grenade, injects the poison, pulls
the trigger. Love turns on itself, spews the
anniversary dinner, love causing the pain,
killing the pain with sweet comfort, sweet
worm at the bottom of the bottle, sweet
stranger's flesh, sweet for an hour...

So, there. Good thing you didn't ask for a happy poem. :)