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Aug 2022
**** the clock, leave me be
I have an itch that can not be fully scratched
a hunger never sated
a Jones that never peaks

I am a slave, a concubine,
a conscript to words
they shiver up my spine
and are as a Dragon's flame

I need more to live
like air, and water and love
or the wind's subtle touch
and my muse's flesh against mine

For she has shown them to me
Her rings of passion
that shimmer in the sun
and I swell, hypnotized

**** the clock
rest your hands
I am bewitched
and must needs be met

Leave me be
to our fantasy
She waits for me still
true and wanting

My drug calls
my veins throb
the words, the words
they tell her where I am

Here
I am still here
and the Dragon
must be appeased

Oh tenderness
the sweetness left in my memory
for my wild imagination
to ferment like wine

Drunk now on these visions
impaired with temptation
I taste their milk of love
and suckle to sleep.

**** the clock
though I can not stay here
nestled within her *****
safe from the Dragon's flame

Aye, I must leave
but a spark of permanence remains
a tattoo on my brain
of flesh and sun and rings
*as always, thank you for your inspiration*
LD Goodwin
Written by
LD Goodwin  Harrogate, TN
(Harrogate, TN)   
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