I want to be your only obsession,
Without thought nor will nor cessation.
Command me, force me unto your will,
Consumed until I submit and lay still.
Devour me, consummate me as your own,
Leave trepidation behind closed doors.
Bring your soul to my open embrace,
And lay it upon my waiting breast.
Your heart should be my daily sustenance,
And darker prayers my faith’s dance.
I want you to beg of me as I beg of you,
To be washed clean in your desire.
Believe in this burnt temple and altar,
All gold and brass and silver stone.
Bring me the hearts of old lovers,
And lay them still beating for sacrifice.
Deceive me not with words prettily said,
But lay out your pain for me instead.
I want to infect you like a sickness,
Burn slowly within a still-beating chest.
Breathe against me and I will be consumed,
And leave this temple tied against the bed.
Infect me in the depths of pure darkness,
To be worshipped as a goddess.
Press warm lips against silent eyes,
And bless me with calling sweet depths.
Force your hand against my temple,
as you worship at this trembling altar.
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2 comments:
Pretty good, but may some day benefit from yet another repolishing. I think the only parts that bother me are the "unto" and other Olde English sounding pretensions. I used to do much the same is the reason why I know to critique it. And I feel like I know that you know that it's there, too, and just can't forego it yet! Good luck from a Rat!
Thanks Ron! I do kind of get off on the older styles, I dunno why, I'm a romantic at heart I guess.
I like your work too, from what I've read its pretty damn good.
Shameless ploy for attention:
Did you read my other poems at the begginning?
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