Is it love? Or do I simply long For the touch of your tongue on my scorched skin Is it wrong That I crave and resent you With equal measure? I am at leisure To act as I choose Yet I am bound Beguiled Bruised. Bewitched by the kiss By the touch That was too much For either of us to bear; It ought've remained a fantasy But your 'love' is addictive A single drop of water for my parched soul; It makes me whole Though the pieces match imperfectly.
My self-preserving hands push you away, But your heart-stopping gaze moves me to stay.