Day: Jan 23, 2022

May my devotion to your beauty serve as a gentle reminder

That the youth fleets and hair grow grey,

And love is one wicked spellbinder,

But your grace will leave its mark on my heart like it is made of clay.

You see me without the filigree and my gilded disguise.

When I look at you, my red lips run out of questions.

There are only answers in your eyes,

Only gentle whispers forming long-lasting lessons.

And my mouth feels dry when I crave your kisses at night,

But I would rather be damned than touch you.

Let me just float on the top of this memory until I see the light,

Until I fall in love with you anew.

I swear I want it to pass, I swear I want you to stay.

There is a blade waiting to lick the skin on my bare throat,

And if I choose wrong, I will not get to live another day.

Yet, not choosing you feels like breaking an invisible blood oath.

What is worse – never getting to hold you or passing the point of no return?

Right now, the former seems like torture,

But the latter might make my body burn,

So, may my devotion be my curse, may it be my fortune.

-Jackie