A Gentle Tale of Lust
Into the dark, dank cellar
I lead you by the hand
towards a marble alter
laid with crimson sheets,
surrounded by cold candles
winking their naked eyes.
I feel you shiver against me
as I gently lay you down,
enter your mind
and read your soul.
You are not, yet, ready
to embrace this open flame.
The dim light flickers,
you fall into my eyes,
softly you sigh my name.
As your will evaporates
I slowly enter your skin
awaiting that first, sweet thrill.
Hot liquid fire burns my lips,
yet warms my heart.
Uncovering your dreams
in each anxious beat
I see your desire for me,
I hear your pain.
Alas, my love,
alone I choose to wander
as warm, pleading hands
chill my blood.
You grow pale now,
all life slips from your eyes
which seem to beg me
to set you free.
Don't cry, my sweet,
I fail to hear that naked plea
over the steady pleasure beat
you have given me.
* thanks for switching on the light in the think-tank on this one, Captain Jack
Viola Grey's Other Poems
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(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
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Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
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