having your lover
trace your earloves with their
fingernib is as intimate as
reading.

Carry me gently
Over the lilting waves
Towards the Spanish sea;
Let my moonlight skin
spark the water around me and
guide my floating body to where my
soul shall rest.

I let the tide take its course,
Trusting Poseidon to grant me mercy and
pull me to my heart's crying need before it
bursts and spatters the
ocean's clarity.

Bobbing up and down like a seagull
I can taste the salty spray - it
tempts me further towards the
island of my dreams, and the
bitterness on my tongue will
transform into the sweetest nectar of
the gods, when I wash up there.

It is not the laws of men which
carry me gently over the
lilting waves, but the
buoyant love within me that
keeps me afloat and
full of hope.

I spin myself a web of lies;
Lies that are disguised as the sweetest nectar
Yet contain a sickly poison within -
Killing yet comforting with every dose.

My tainted spell bewitches me,
To the point where both
mind and matter are
completely controlled by my
pleasurable pain,
And when my sense rejects this impulse my
insatiable heart clamours for more
and more,
pushing me to the brink of insanity -
Insanity that no one but my desire is to blame.

And what lies can influence the logical mind so?
Lies of unspoken passion which only my eye can see,
if my eye is to be believed.
Fantasies of requited need and longing,
Dreams of endless wonder at what could be
and what might be, maybe.

I don't want to believe my lies anymore
For they fool my silly heart,
Yet perhaps my lies are the only thing
Keeping my heart from breaking.

My thorns grow
meaner by the day, to
protect my
withering heart from the
rose I cannot claim.