It´s not lust
that brings me to you.
It´s not desire
or need.
It´s not your looks,
attitude,
eyes or smell.

Hands,
body,
mind or soul.

It´s love.
Simple and pure love.
Don´t you see that?

My name last uttered by stoic soldier pines
they watched me devoured from under lines
my breath last coaxed by a lady all in white
of beauty she would boast and toast my sight
my head last held by a willingness to burn
eyes closed slightly I could not discern, the lessons
I held tightly from the ones I truly learned

If you know me or could see me,
What would you really find,
Inside my soul, within my earth.
Beneath the dirt, among the worms.
In  the darkness of my wonderland
Would you seek the best of me,
And  hold it to the light,
Or could you find the worst of me,
The bits I seek to leave behind.
Poker faces where made to lie,
Your words chew at me from the inside,
Hands wash clean,
Clowns and jokers scream obscene,
Is this really me?