confession of a self-denying cynic

 

 

tip-toe
sof-
ter

try as you
won’t.

know
as you
don’t.

she calls
to you.
(you)

 

Siren song
realized,
as two
big
bewitchingly
brown eyes.

 

Promises
of chaste
propriety
tossed aside-
quickly.

all
is NOT fair.

No mercy,
as your soul
mercilessly flails
your heart
deep in the
inside of you.

 

out of

breath,
and
dizzy.
 
why?
why did she
touch you

right,
there?

why do your lips
yearn.

 

for
a brush with
the divine-
the divine realized
as protruding
pillows of soft
pink
that whisper
love.
Love.
tender
budding
bulbs that sing
dirges for the unrequited.

and flow
to ply
your soul.

and
your heart
spasms
so,
you submit.
you submit.
you submit.

you submit
to the Universe.

you submit
to Time.

you submit
to whatever folly
this
delightful
demoness demands.

because
you
are lost.

lost in the beauty
of knowing
self’s counterpoint,
revealed.