The arrow of love has pierced my soul, Steadily seeping poison from it’s passionate tip deep down into the marrow of my desire;
Allowing the venom that is obsession to creep into my heart, Infesting my emotions, Clouding my judgment, eluding my senses, A puppeteer of synapses, Losing my path due to lust;
Loosely losing control of limber limbs, Allowing hands to roam wondrously, Caressing the flowers petals, tasting its intoxicating nectar, Roaming eyes gazing on bountiful hills;
Slowly waking from soothing slumber, Surely a surreal surprise, White lotus tainted with taboo, Onyx splotches of opium expand as desire blossoms, Soon to cease is the diminishing hope, Drowning in the tar of deception;
Yet still this lotus cries to me, A calling of ultimate passion, Sitting in a garden of romance, Tending to this forbidden lust, Lost in the tranquil night, Listening only to the voices of love, Longing to rescue it from the gardener, Which neglects its very presence;
How I wish to caress her beauty, Smooth legs to luscious lips, Following the path of my warm breath, Gently trickling along with attentive fingers, Erotically playing to the utters of joy, Gazing wantingly into her eyes, ‘Allow me to be your distraction’, I whisper as she shivers, Releasing her energy onto the stars;
Whispered ideas of love and life, Float seamlessly into the velvet sky, As the pain of knowing she is unattainable echoes everlasting, How I cherish these subtle silent moments of solitude, Holding her against my soul, Running trembling fingers through lacy hair, As she listens to my placid beat, I inhale every sigh she releases, As to keep some part of her closer to my heart;
Silently I pray to the Lord, Let this last forever, Laughing loudly while laying in the dew ridden grass, Bathed in a haze of light, Falling gently from the glowing moon, Softly landing on her naked body, Highlighting her beautiful curves, Sweat glistening, Daring the stars to diminish this sleeping angel, Whose head lays upon my chest, Slowly I kiss her forehead, Knowing the prayer will not be answered;
Fiery red rests upon my eyelids, Cautiously I open them, Only to meet the breaking dawn, Gazing at my palms with the phantom feeling of the seductive night before, Her skin seared into my own, Her scent embedded in my nostrils, Her face branded into my vision, Her lips laced across mine, Oh how I long to stare back into her eyes;
I slowly stand upon weakened legs, My head buzzing with reminiscence of the beguiling night, How it pains me to be alone, Bending down I collect my garments, Soaked in the essence of passion, Collected from the blades on which they rested, Soon I find the singular prints of a weary heart, Smiling I stroll down my self-trodden path, Pausing only to look back on our ghostly silhouettes imprinted in the ground, Knowing that at night her lips are mine.
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