By Chuck RitenouR
This is not an epistle of love declaring
tender surrender, faithfulness
and riding the tide of emotional bliss.
I was lost the first time
your eyes, like a pair of powerful cats
feasted in the darkness of my soul.
While a delicate fruit forbidden,
you are always on my mind's table
just beyond my eager reach.
naked, you drink my blood
from the silver goblet
of a cult long forgotten.
"Dare you risk eternal
damnation for one night's pleasure?"
In a whisper, I always answer