crime of passion
"murder me"
she whispered ...
(lips pressed to my nape, nipping skin)
for her betrayal of husband and
family meant as much ..,
we both knew the sacrifices,
and we accepted the cost that instant,
then, and for the scandalous time to come …
she was lost in me - straddling, pressing
and I, lost in her
so rooted that I was becoming her in flesh …
in all senses …
nothing mattered anymore but
passion and its pyre
burning all in its torrid wake -
all that had mattered ...
'til then …
it was a horrid thing for her to say -
to place in such dire phrasing
yet it was ALL that I wanted -
all that I needed and cared to hear …
"murder me"
she whispered again, pressing down ...
"for I am nothing now ...
but yours."
Copyright © 2019 Gregory Richard Barden
( photographic art created copyright-free by the poet with GALA AI software )
Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden | Year Posted 2025
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