She gives up

If I could undress you as I do my thoughts,

set deep in my mind; you accompany them

spilling out at night, when all protection flees 

to leave empty, once innocent thoughts. 

attacking above my body, crippled out

beneath her, creased sheets. They captivate my

heart and soul, as you follow their lead, shouting 

conflict in my sleepless skin,

where there is nothing I own, 

you gladly took it all away, my

gladness. Turned my cheek, peachy blush

furred softly, you leave soft kisses, alter

to thrush harsh, victorious agony 

Leave me bleeding, you pulled my strings,

controlled my take. starting with my arm, you raise above

leaving her hair-line behind, where you take her delicate 

outstretched lengthy movement, the only she had, 

trapping it as she repels 

under your figure, heavily breathing, hers stop. 

He carries on, to caress momentarily 

through her blurred watery sight

sparkling liquid diamonds, none the richer.

Why is it not right, at the moment he comes

back to mind, from writing down increasing heartbeats,

that come to slow. I don't undress you as my thoughts do themselves,

they undress their-selves. I write you on paper, white sheets,

where you'll be easier burnt, because my writings are my thoughts,

you are my writing, you are my thoughts. You are the conflict in disguise

and other than thought be writing, I rid you with writing, I rid my thought,

through denial of writing my thoughts. If thoughts be writing at all, if writing

were to be composed of other thoughts, some strange allegory of..  

Reviews

[Jonathan De Elvira]

I don't know why but somehow I feel so sad for this one...
I like this...

[The True Angel Of Sin]

This is a nice poem, I like it. Very unique.

[Wondering Mind]

there are times when it all becomes a closed circuit; an infinite loop.