I write this down, but will not dare
The words, drawn from my heart,
To speak of inconvenient joys
That rent our lives apart,
Or how, in innocence, we sought
To sip forbidden springs
And lick the sweetness from our lips
That sucking nectar brings.
I write this down, but will not share
The memories that I ride,
Of passions born in secrecy,
Where lust and pleasure hide,
Nor of the kisses pressed between
The pages of my sleep,
That flake in fragrant whispers
That their drying petals keep.
I write this down, but will not bear
My empty eyes to close
Upon reflections in the pools
Of moonlight’s wavering glows,
Nor let my staggered breaths betray
The shards of senseless light
That pierce the shadows, mourning
The deceitfulness of night.
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