Fire Bites Poem by James McLain

Trembling, I am sorry You have left me.
On the phone last night You told me.
To be stung and your golden bust, busy bee's.
When you grab the moon,
and I go back and forth in you, Jasmine,
look how I am shaking.

Or shallow breathing, wounded deeply by me.
I am again sorry that you found yourself there, were.
Deeply overwhelmed with my love, as if.
When you last closed, I see into your eyes.
And with our last attempt at the end of compromise.
Nine months latter such a sweet name.
The gift of life without thought, without strife.
Never again will I, pause.

Drinking only from you would I love you and give.