The strangest thing
we have is love.
Garter on her thigh,
my hands testify
to all that I
would do for her.
Another resurrection session.
Late night
asking questions.
“Do, or die?
What would I prefer?”
Hell is an unquenchable desire.
Fire lit
and unrequited.
Burned by the touch,
from bare wire,
lightning arc from fingertips,
to a whole world ignited.
Such as it is,
I am unworthy.
Just another dirty beggar
in your way.
Asking for your pity,
or your mercy,
when I deserve neither,
I’m afraid.
Consumed
by pure essence of you.
Captured by the gaze
of your eye.
Murdered
by the presence of you,
is the way
that I would choose to die.
Love is a malcontent.
A whirlwind heart.
A tempest inside,
tearing us apart.
The flesh cannot contain
the endless words
that claim
our souls.
We were never in control
from the start.
One look,
hooked me
like gravity.
One touch,
set me to burning,
like the Sun.
Love makes
strange creatures of us all,
and I
am one.
DJR – 2023
