Offerings laid at her feet -
Red wine, a bouquet of roses, and
My willing flesh,
Proffered up to her mercy.
Such grace:
She extends one gentle hand
And pulls me to my feet.
Sweet mercy;
Her eyes both scald and soothe me,
How I wish to drown in their depths,
Beneath those beguiling lashes,
But even that
Would not be enough.
Stood before her, sacrilegious thoughts
Plague this faithful mind.
How desperate this sinner is
To taste the wine from her lips;
How filthily do I long
To put my hands upon
Those seraphic hips...
The shame mounts - I know that
She knows of these thoughts
Of mine, of the thumping of this mortal heart.
Such grace:
She draws me closer, that empyrean smile
Now within my reach.
Sweet mercy;
How merciful a goddess she is
To grant me
A taste of that exquisite heaven.
I am home again, at last.
YOU ARE READING
Refraction.
PoetrySo many aspects, colours and themes make up our experiences. Truly, is anything entirely good or entirely bad? Upon weighing up the positives and negatives of the past, do we not admit that even tragedy is- in a twisted sort of way- advantageous? O...
