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 bolden..green 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?
soft petals of her
walk away..close this passion
sinless and unstained…
tried in the fire…still lanquishing,
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,
her heart …no toy…