feathers, dancers & metal lust

A collection of poetry, flash fiction and other things.

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18. all i can be

the taste of you explodes on my tongue, just 

a little feeling of what you've begun. 

is this a dream or not, can this be  our last resort? let us 

not, i love thee 

i remember the feel of your skin against mine,

the sand in the hour glass, was our little sign.

i love thee more than, 

you could hope to ever understand,

so why don't you give me your hand, not sever? 

because, love, they'll sever my head if i do

and a life without me is not worth one with you

if this is what it takes, 

to sell your little soul, 

then maybe i should  have put your head on a pole. 

you're a danger to us all.   

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