With Scald Of Her Gaze, Have I Lien To See

06 Nov


Cobalt eyes, deft in tracing,
dare not examine laden frill
of her ritual imbursement;
she has still a wilding tone
with which to summon me,
in this, my winter amends;
so vast with sly inferences,
yet direct in form and flow,
her gaze, impales upon me.

Not merely harlot, but noble,
royal breasts, ancestral thighs,
administered to peasant’s reign;
her wealth of grace, quietus sin,
tho’ not her eye upon the hour,
weathered, in uneasy remorse;
my eyes, by distinction, scald,
willful, her gaze remits to mine,
guileless now, as bartered maid.

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Posted by on November 6, 2015 in My Poetry



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