and to think we should see each other
as two finite masks, printed over porcelain
to be beautiful, ugly, as you wish it
but so easily shattered, broken as we are.
you and I who see heart to heart
yet cannot face the other’s eyes -
to know we are equal,
you with words, and I with passion
when it is your hand that engulfs mine
and my lips that impress yours.
brow to brow, cheek to cheek --
the heat of your skin mingling with hers
when the fires of my passion grow dim,
seeping through ink, blotting pages;
liquid marks echoing on pillow cases
where a weary mind lays dreams to rest
and sleep follows each moment
pleading even now, you see,
to give this hope an end
and lay me down tonight, instead.
tomorrow may be brighter
for you, without you.
Gender:
Points: 17895
Reviews: 489