deepundergroundpoetry.com
Her eyes cross my side
Her eyes cross my side
Thrilling me to the bone
Has it ever crossed her mind
My tongue is molded stone
To be so close yet like a ghost
Like a reflection in water is I
I regret being love's host
I would rather die!
When will there come a cessation
To this twisting cycle
While provoked by devil's temptation
In a river of queerness, I am idle
Her eyes cross my side
Thrilling me to the bone
When will I ever find
Solace of being alone?
Thrilling me to the bone
Has it ever crossed her mind
My tongue is molded stone
To be so close yet like a ghost
Like a reflection in water is I
I regret being love's host
I would rather die!
When will there come a cessation
To this twisting cycle
While provoked by devil's temptation
In a river of queerness, I am idle
Her eyes cross my side
Thrilling me to the bone
When will I ever find
Solace of being alone?
Published 26th Oct 2013
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