Endless Moments

I hear it often - your low rising sigh -
Like rippling breezes over trembling brooks;
The sound imagined through my silent cry,
As I observe the sternest of your looks;
It's insupportable; I am weighed down;  
Your wicked cannon compromises will;
Isolated by your darkening frown,
I know I am no angel, still I fall;
 
Seeing you treading noiselessly to lean
Over my prostrate form - a sombre blur:
You leave me floored; and I observe the gleam
Within your eyes - mere shadows would prefer
To be fucked by a fire, not your iced flames,
Through endless moments of your teasing games.