Selling: My Whore Poem by James McLain

I am Yours and yes; you are my one blue eye of glass
i see by: green glass that you, I have paid for,
throw upon the floor
and each peice again once swallowed makes
the running off of it more.
You are one 'Sun' must thus I tremble by,
do not call out my name, not mine you must not ever.
Mine very own name in it I wait,
my trembling hands on you it thus,
thorns and roses searing the flesh until it's price
paid in blood alone on the stone, I wait for.