A Touch Deranged...

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I no longer wish to face the constant flow of inventions flowing forth from your lips,

the lies a cloud of purple poison stretching in my direction,

incongruities bold as black print on plain white paper,

innocently unaware I see every falsehood you present

with an enthusiasm bolstered by the steadfastness offered

only, by a mind a touch deranged.

Quiet Permanence

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Had I accepted the cold breeze

that wind-still summers night

as your touch, the pronouncement of your presence,

verifying the choice flittering in my thoughts,

dismissed as wishful, my wistful nature

casting it as a dream, an impossible dream.

Had I believed, accepted and allowed you in,

dismissed distrust to the wonders my eyes perceived,

to the love all around I'd no longer felt, my part in your life

and my role in their completion,

had I followed my instincts that wind-still summers night

maybe I wouldn’t have disappeared into quiet permanence.

you

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    What I would give for

just one more night with you

my Friday favourite,

it’s you I must pursue

you, may I have you?

    I’ll feed you grapes and wine

red Persian under vines

a silver sky of stars

heat trails across your skin

you, may I begin?

    My eyes will tie you down

in satisfaction drown

a gift I give to you

if you me this allow

you, come to me now…