Midnight Lust

Gorgeous.

 

It's gorgeous.

Your hair, your skin, your features, your eyes.

Yes your eyes are gorgeous

And deep. I might someday, drown in them.

Be indulged by them. If I haven't already.

There's desire. Craving.

Perhaps the tiniest tint of lust. Jealousy.

Of what you have. Of what you are. Of who you are. And of what you are given.

 

I love you.

However, I also hate you.

I may just snatch what it is you hold so dear. Perhaps even steal your soul. Her soul. That is untamed.

Devour you.

 

But that is impossible.

 

When you sit there,

on the edge of the roof,

on this building.

 

And you stare,

at the rose,

in your hand,

as if it were the happiness of the whole universe.

 

And you pluck,

each petal,

soaked in red.

 

And each petal flies away with the breeze,

that rustles your hair and scrapes your skin.

 

And you sit in front of the full moon,

accidentally revealing your silhouette.

 

I watch, out this window. In hiding.

Simply waiting for the time,

to pounce.

 

　

　

　

　

　

Reviews

[Nova]

beautiful imagery. And strong emotion of yearning through out. This is wonderful.

[Dream Weaver]

(And you pluck,

each petal,

soaked in red.)



Love it...

[silentsmiles]

i love it

This is actually an old poem. I've changed it a bit. Tell me what you think of this?