Where he is now, but a mystery to my life.
His face rides my mind,
like an endless mirage upon Arabian.
I'd love to hear him speak, yet well I know,
the situation is but a stone in a hole.
Nothing of him is as of yet mastered,
a delinquent with skin,
overstretching yielded cast bars.
I crave something rich and strange,
the taste of his creamy velvet churned lips,
a fantasy congealed paste.
I grant, I never questioned where the god does go,
my master, when he walks,
It's slow and then off he goes.
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Author:
geige00 (
Offline) - Published: January 28th, 2020 14:59
- Comment from author about the poem: A combination of aristos, rhetoric and heartbreak. I'm not the only person wondering what on earth is happening to my love life, so I thought i'd share this rather random affair that has left me somewhat bewildered in life. I can't change what has happened; I can only sit back, reflect and master these emotions in a slow attempt of getting to grips with the craftsmanship of wording and the complexities of courtship.
- Category: Love
- Views: 11
Offline)
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