Just One Taste

What is Not Right is not Wrong

And what is Not Wrong

Is not Right

By all accounts, ideas and rules

My love for you is Wrong

I should not want to feel your breath

Ghosting over my skin as you whisper praises, flesh rising to meet you with every breath;

I should not want your hands in my hair

Lips on my throat

Taste on my tongue.

I should not, by all accounts, ideas and rules

Want you.

But you are knowledge.

You are red, morning dew glistening in leaf-green as you hang from un-reachable branches.

You are learning, you are knowing.

You are Not Right.

You are my apple, and I, Eve.

My lips skate a hair’s breadth from you, from your warm skin and your beating heart and your f*****g smile.

You could be my death

And I would never care.

I’d damn humanity like the angry ember of a cigarette under my heel just for one taste.

Because I learned to define Wrong, without ever using the word Right. 

Author's Note

The first piece of poetry I've posted anywhere say for my blog. So please give me your feedback.