Dreams kill & ache & bleed & cry in rooms of silence, dark in tone.
I love you. A repeated phrase which you say remains unknown.
– It is to you.
A sparkling dress of want flutters like candle dust around your skin & the light blinks out.
But I picture you there.
– Your smile which kills.
A web of deceit, or the lust of youth?
Or that fools tear themselves in dreams I fear & I hate?
For loss is great!
For even for a night, a night in which so much was gained & the flesh which surrounds you dances & burns,
Teases & forces gyrations of desire from a friend who adores
& falls gently away.
Or was that just you?
& another nights gone.
But now in soft light with whiskey & gin & a light which frustrates.
& A mind which lurks
Begs for you.
Says that I love you.
& I love you!
Theses hypnotic chants & screamed repetitions filter the pain,
For there’s torture in knowing you.
For this grief in desire.
So come to my arms my love.
Rest gently deep within them.
& Tell me your secrets tonight.
Let me bask in your glory.
Oh, I recognise your escape. I know of desire.
I know of your world, of your beautiful chances.
But allow me to love you & I’d grant you the stars
I’d make you a princess
I’d make you my queen!
But let love flow around you.
& let it be mine.
~ Her silence is torture
© ed simkins