Dagger of Love
I may not always write about you,
About the way your energy,
Caresses my spine,
And sends jolts of electrity,
Racing through my body,
Exploding each cell like fireworks.
I may not write about,
The way my dreams at night,
Fill with you and I dancing,
Heat bashing our skin,
Filling us with an unquencable need,
Touch beconing a new meaning.
I may not write about,
The way your eyes stare into mine,
Past the years I have seen,
And into the soul that I am,
Spirit colliding with spirt,
Melting together like Iron to form a sword.
I may not write about,
A love that we experience,
Through star strewed skies,
And blood soaked ground,
That causes even the fearful sight,
Of bombs exploding to look beautiful.
I may not write about you and I,
How I fill up your soul and your mind,
With thoughts and words and images,
That melt and form new words,
Your lovely muse who so beguiles you,
With a double bladed sword.
But Darling, don't let your heart,
Get away from itself,
Don't let your heart take the fall.
The wound I cause shall soon heal,
And you will read words,
Of another man, dancing with me,
Of another man, touching my soul,
His finger tips brushing the sides,
Of my breasts, his lips trailing down my neck,
Whispering with the heat of hells fires,
All that could be between, his and mine.
You will read lines that speak,
Of a sensual romance,
Pools and puddles of lust between thighs,
And an ancient sweetness,
That rivals Greek Ambrosia.
It is no fault of your own,
You have fallen and I have shown you,
The sharp dagger of my love.
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