cruel and terrible things about
the people that I love
but I’m not strange:
Page 2 of 3
I’m burning up.
Look what you’ve done to me –
reduced to no more than a beast
commanded by intense feelings
screaming at me to thrust,
my face, my neck, my arms
before encircling my waist and
My seductive fingertips
and silver tongue of lies…
tracing down past your hips
to in between your thighs.
Veering through the black,
I face the world raw:
wings hanging from my back,
blood dripping from my maw.
I’ve found you after all these years
of wandering with bitter tears
that trickled down my hardened face
that softens now thanks to your grace.
She had on her the smell of ages
and a vivid passion that still rages.
She asked me for a harvest tryst
and it never occurred to me to resist.
Smelling of rain and fresh-cut flowers,
she was jovial and gaily attired
and I got so drunk upon her powers
that I can’t remember what transpired.
How it pains me, the sweet caress
that leaves red scars upon my flesh,
but our lovemaking is such I’m left
out of breath and soaked with sweat.
Your countenance, aloof and cold,
serves to draw me towards your side,
so enthralled and lost within your hold
that I curled up at your feet and died.