Crimson and Clover: Reprise Desire

Thighs press against thighs and sighs mingle with sighs

as Crimson and Clover

plays over and over

in a repetitive reprise of teary eyes and broken cries.

 

For this liquid heat is a throbbing beat

of impulse

and repulse,

impossible to defeat and impervious to all things sweet

 

For you and I, we cannot deny

this magnetism,

this eroticism

that eludes all efforts to quantify or satisfy.

 

For your name on my lips became a game

played between hips

 and damp fingertips -

a dangerous desire set aflame by our collective shame.

 

We are twin core of herbivore and carnivore

struggling

and uniting

in a filthy war that isn’t worth fighting anymore.

 

We despise this obsession that we disguise

as an entity of hostility

and a counterfeit vulnerability,

to hide all the lies that we’ve sighed in a dirty reprise.

 

Side by side we lay, as we play

these devious games in a haze of pain

so pleasurable we could never abstain

from this thing that is halfway between decay and foreplay.

 

I become a chess piece lain aside, left to crumble alone and outside

named as naught but a whim,

because you found him,

but you shall not leave here untried if I am to remain forever set aside.

 

 

Your blood may not spill, and I may not feed you poison pill,

but this is your end

for this is a crime you cannot defend �"

so drink of your loving swill, knowing that it shall never fulfil.

 

He shall lay you down in your white gossamer gown

on that night of all nights

in a consummating passage of rites �"

and so you must bear your crown, never again to be broken down.

 

You may not heed my words, but I have sown the doubtful seed.

You want what is no more

and have doused the embers in your core

until you’ve signed your skeleton deed and yielded your voracious need.

 

At last you come to me, all begging and downcast,

for you need the sins that rush through like live wire

and the most corrupt of wildfire,

but you remain steadfast in your desire to keep me alone and outcast.

 

Cruel mirth curves my lips, and you wither beneath my harsh ridicule,

you thought me eternally yours,

that I would beg on all fours

to lie at your side as a gullible fool, nothing but a broken tool.

 

But you made your bed with the one you have wed,

it is time now, for you both to lay

in the place where we used to play,

to dream of dread and a love long dead.

 

There is nothing left now but broken ties and sinful lies,

as Crimson and Clover

plays over and over

in a repetitive reprise of teary eyes and broken cries. 

Author's Note

I'm Back! Please ignore any technical grammar and punctuation issues, most of them are to help me with timing when I performed the poem. Enjoy

Reviews

[APOORVA]

just beautiful.
read it twice..

[Mayank]

There is contrast in this piece, however, that is what make piece a good read. The love, lust, and lie - your words hold them very well.