To Beg
In a heated pace
beauty breeds her longing face
with set back eyes,
piercing and penetrating
where smoke can only hope to find
embers that burn thru time
and continuum
pure oxygen stoked in flame
in form, in fit
a competition, but it's not
a tease to hold that spot
spirits running hot
letting wine spill across the lips
before even a beg to begin to kiss
Copyright © Ts Poetry | Year Posted 2019
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