Life’s crimson blade

his blood does flow,

for secret love

 his heart to know,

words cry pages

to the depth of him,

real to the pulsing heartbeat.


it never was…it can not be,

discovered …on this wounded knee,

Her face is laced orbs,

teasing his unrelenting force.


jealous of the very sky…breathless sigh,

feeling thunder…to the sinful skin,

of doorways forbidden

I dare not in..


torment of love..wracked in sweat,

desire became me…oh what’s in store?

foundations slipping


soft petals of her

open sheath…


walk away..close this passion

sinless and unstained…

tried in the fire…still lanquishing,

still languishing…



Hide yourself…pull over the sheet,

tomorrow still barks …she is still there!

two “yous” ..mirror found,

Tears must help bury ..each  sound..

but this  “Writerman  is honor bound.


endless time.. will longings surface,

scars that may not heal.

gaping holes he can not plug,

to the want desert

he must steal..


at last no end for Writerman’s heart..

none least …desires would pray?

a chain of value..sweet felt joy,

broken link,

her heart …no toy…