When his hands clasp yours
And the fires are raging
Slip one ornamental hand
Into the recesses of suppressed desires
Bejeweled and hidden
In your breast
Let your painted fingers
Rush slightly over my bare spine
For that one last moment
Of trembling sensations
Clasp your hand around my waist
Hold my being tightly yet lightly
Like you’d clasped the first butterfly
Our togetherness may shiver
And meekly resist
Maybe beg for life…
Close those enchanting eyes
Least a tear might betray…
And pick me from there
A flash and ashes will merge
Watch that burning
Feel that heat, feel that cold
As he waits for the scented water
To pass through the intricate patterns
Of your hands into his…
A befitting farewell
Was my last wish….
No comments:
Post a Comment