Temptress who art in mind

Golden whispers in the air 

Drizzle lightly into my dark lair 

And beckon to me to her become aware 

Shall I respond or no thinks I 

Tis not the question to myself I rebuke 

For tis likened to why a bird doth take to the sky 

To what reason do you hold to crouch farther back 

To the call of bright future possible? 

Fear of inability to be fully true is my lack 

To take what may be given with naught in kind return 

Only solace of wintered passion 

Chilled with nary hint of fire hidden to mutually burn 

Coward or martyr of silken dreams continually denied 

Greedily, quickly bottling fanciful thoughts 

And placing arow with others cellared inside 

Yet with the simplest of movements and reach 

Do I dare ice such voice? 

And later regret the silence I would invariably teach?


2 thoughts on “Temptress who art in mind

    1. Thank you – this was one of the first pieces I tried writing as a “legitimate” sort; until this point I was known more for my more graphic depictions of lust. I have found since then that I prefer to allude to lust rather than being overt about the entire thing.


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