This page cannot turn
For the weight of your heart
Upon it I have drawn. A reminder
of sensuous feeling; touching; breathing;
excitable rays of desire. Now faded
memories veiled in my mind, at times
ignited by scent of cinnamon, sounds
that wrench my heart; beating
louder than my guilt can pound.
The sunrise signals a sombre goodbye.
My reverie's long, the ink is dry.
Passions yearning gaze inquires.
The answer dwells on this page unread
- My pen is Black
- Your heart is Red
