There is no mercy
inside you for me;
no tender touch
of a lover's hand.
You push me
and study me,
looking for weakness,
ready to pounce.
Your voice in my ear
demands more and more,
accepting nothing less
than my all;
offering nothing less
than everything.
I am a willing addict,
worshipping at your altar,
kneeling at the gate,
begging to come inside.
No protests from this womanly heart-
I want what you offer.
7-21-08
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem