I write with ne’r emptying ink
That what words, thoughts emanate
So stand tribute to all them
Ever struggling to say just right
What burns within them.
Fire
there is one I know
the one guilty
her hand comes lays tender
against my flesh
nerves prick and tingle
sensate,
weave all them sinews stitch
binds the all of me
kindles
ignites
sparks a flame
blazes in my loins
probes
penetrates
erupts
claws the deepest depths of Me.
Heated
for all them wanton,
ingots
glowing,
spewing,
molten of her valley,
keep short thy tongue
for alas when
desires quelled,
them vanquished,
embers left evanesce amidst the Ashes
~ ~ ~
Here
what is it my love,
this angel comes when the moon does not look
by stealth in the wee hours amidst the blackness,
finds my cheek and there her lips imprinted
for me to find at morn’s first light,
left to reassure,
to tell uncertainty will never overcome Me?
~ ~ ~