You are there
And I can't touch you
My fingers will burn
On your skin so true.
You are forbidden
That hidden treasure
In the farthest corner
Of an uncertain pleasure.
Your face and body
Spin in my mind
Bumping every cell
To make me blind
And deaf... And mad
Captive of a rampart desire
And it's hard to contain
Lust and this burning fire
That is killing me
From inside my whole existence.
And I just can't see
That in this nonsense
In this f*cking persistence
Of my tingling skin
Wanting you is only sin
That would drag me down to hell
Even though it feels so well...
I can't
I just can't
Love you!
YOU ARE READING
Carmina A Book of Poems
PoesiaCarmina (Hebrew) means garden or orchard. In Latin it means song or poem. This is a collection of Poems of love, life and nature.
