She knows she wants your heart

I sigh
as this writer I know
attempts to write
 
as if the message
she carries
will make it's point
 
Please, she says
with a face of stone
leave me be,
alone
 
We can't be friends, sir
you must try to understand
I am who I am
and you, you are a man
 
This poet I know shakes her head
hair falling down and away
cos she knows
 
She's in love with something
all wrong
the daunting task
of trying to belong
 
She knows peace
because she knows it's gone
 
Not ashamed
it's just her desires
are full grown
 
It's not love, it's  
something more rare
a sorta chaotic passion
makes her touch her there
 
Thoughts of you circle  
round
can't sleep after we clown around
it's my body you see
 
 
You make me laugh and then
it cries
say your being yourself
you won't even deny  
 
 
To know, you know
it seems unfair
want you with all the
illicitness I can bare
 
I'm greedy for more
peering at your naked body
through the door
 
This writer, now she's
gone to far
she knocks and wants
 
in a place so real, warm
this poetress, to the nines she's dressed
 
in sweetness and goodness
simply for your time
your heart
at best.