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★★★★★ (2)
Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Fantasy · #1702362

Love affair that accurse in the wee hour of the night.



Will you still be here tomorrow,
Lying snugly by my side,
Or was our love a coat to borrow,
A room to rent, a taxi ride?

In your giving of such rapture
Did you give yourself to me,
Or is your love too fleet for capture
By one who craves its constancy?

Will the daybreak gild our faces
In it golden, glowing tint,
Or will these be love's only traces:
That scent of sex, this pillow-print?

As I ride each blissful coming,
Will I arch against your jaws,
Or lie alone, two fingers strumming,
Pretending that my hand is yours?




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