My eyes saw her
And my heart longed for her
And my lips wanted a taste
Of her seething venom
She was a cup
I didn’t want to pass
Without having a sip
That opened a flesh wound
Only she could nurse
Because it could never heal
And any one I’d ****
For her to be mine and mine alone.  

On the drags ov the black wine
Brood from African matured raw dark vines
Bitter sweet and sedating like ecstasy
She anesthetized me
Leaving me numb
To the wound she had inflicted
Upon my heart of flesh,
When I let my
Shield down
And left her sizzling arrow
Piercing my heart
Like a thorn for the holy one
Her arrow inoculated a venom
That enfeebled my trembling frame
As I bled love unafraid of bleeding to death!
I looked deeply Into Her dark eyes
My vision impaired,
High from the venom
And partial hemorrhage.
I said slowly
“What is love? Tell me please…”
She smiled and replied…

“I can’t tell you,
I can only show you
Cuz you have prayed.
Love is a tourniquet
To your heart a wound
I can nurse it for you
That’s why it hurts
If you are wounded
By someone without skill
Some wounds never heal
But fear not
For my love is not lethal
And leaving you might be fatal,
Words can never be love
Only actions can be
Thoughts are useless
If never said  or expressed
So don’t be afraid
I will nurse your wound
Because mine is deeper than yours”