Point of return

Like a vicious words,
Become idea,
Vain onto soul,
Dancing into my hips.

The music they say lust,
The joy they call cream,

For thus who believe,
Nor to concept,
That is love,
Love is sore.

Being so untrue,
Being so uncool,
Drove right to the moon,
Right into the night.

A tribute to Julie London (RIP)