Untitled #12

...For ev'ry inch of your lust I want - the temperature above human understanding;
Beyond the swell of white jesus on decrepid walls, hanging like strange fruit: your understanding
Beckons the name I know in unseeable dreams... fantasies stalk me as your demand fades;
The climate here: spiritually satisfying, intense. Seduction ripe as Eve's love for and of Adam's shame...
 
Dare you share it?

Copyright © 2005 Jacquii Cooke