No Matter How Pious
No matter how pious
I want to be,
the bad-boy in me always finds
its way to you.
Even in my sleep,
the night conspires to sketch out
delicious within the iris of
your hearth, imbues me within
the mew of your ingénue, and
a kiss salve bathes each heave of
your scent,
my desire,
I am the falcon perched on
Your fancying whim
©2009 j.a.o.a.
I want to be,
the bad-boy in me always finds
its way to you.
Even in my sleep,
the night conspires to sketch out
delicious within the iris of
your hearth, imbues me within
the mew of your ingénue, and
a kiss salve bathes each heave of
your scent,
my desire,
I am the falcon perched on
Your fancying whim
©2009 j.a.o.a.
Please login or register
You must be logged in or register a new account in order to
Login or Registerleave comments/feedback and rate this poem.