... addiction ..., ... beauty ..., ... death ..., ... ghosts ..., ... girl ..., ... kiss ..., ... life ..., ... lips ..., ... love ..., ... moon ..., ... night ..., ... ocean ..., ... pain ..., ... poem ..., ... poems ..., ... poetry ..., ... relationships ..., ... sex ..., ... sins ..., ... summer ..., ... the South ..., ... the sun ...

You Came To Me A Tempest

You came to me a tempest.
Blonde sunshine bronzed in a
Furnace of sweet summer-kissed skin.

I succumbed to you; to the wafting
Of your desire drenched flowers. To
The enchantment of rose petal lips.

We swam deep, didn’t we? Limbs and
Laughs intertwined in August dances
Under a blood red moon. We drank

Life’s bitter brew deeply, letting the
Sharp poison of passion mingle with the
Blood and water within that simply

Wasn’t ours to shed. Yet, we cut, and
Bled out right there in the shadows of
Secret love. And as forbidden as a Capulet

And Montague we stole away into Lust’s
Darkest evening. Sweet Luna hid her face
As our bodies, plucked from the Tree of

Knowledge of Good and Evil, were eaten
In hidden haste. Tonight, as you dream against
Another’s arm, I am confronted with the heart

Prick of all swell tragedies. Before you press
The glass of hemlock to your lips, I will disappear,
In a mist of sorrow and joy and fear and love.

This love, tender and tumultuous, will electrify your
Wicks and burn you fully at both ends. It
Is an insatiable crave molded in deep caverns

By hands of honest deceit. It yearns to
Satisfy and destroy. Sanctify and rot.
But you, my dear, my angel, my clipped-winged

Robin will not perish on my account. You must
Gather your brood and fly to a nest of sweet
Shade that I simply can no longer muster.

‘Twas truly better to have loved and lost
You, than to have never felt the burn of
Such sweet summer-kissed skin against mine.

Look my Love! My muse! Our tired sun
Has passed over the Tropic and Autumn
Has arrived. Now fly. Fly. Fly. Fly. Away.


3 thoughts on “You Came To Me A Tempest

  1. “Tonight, as you dream against
    Another’s arm, I am confronted with the heart

    Prick of all swell tragedies.”
    and also
    “By hands of honest deceit.”
    I like how you paired these words that are basically opposite-
    “swell tragedies” and “honest deceit.
    you have a classic style that I envy. truly.

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