A winding road runs true
They say
cruel and terrible things about
the people that I love
but I’m not strange:
I’m me.
They say
cruel and terrible things about
the people that I love
but I’m not strange:
I’m me.
Baby,
I’m burning up.
Look what you’ve done to me –
reduced to no more than a beast
in rut
commanded by intense feelings
screaming at me to thrust,
to satisfy
that heat.
Your hands
gently tracing
my face, my neck, my arms
before encircling my waist and
my heart.