bound

bound

I have the dreams you could accept
in drying tears once earned and wept
for lovers lost, undeserving of your light.
tight bound. in the beautiful night
in your soul of ebon roses and warm wine.
in ways I can't explain or define
you have tied me to you, like a trace'd bird
waiting you to let slip that I am cured
of my need to soar on waxwork wings
to bring you back the hunted offerings
of your whims and cruel necessity,
to draw you into my skies that I might be
more than random chance or dance, fierce
with my desires, playing time to pierce
your heart and your willing flesh to
mark you half as bound to me as I am to you.


William F. DeVault. all rights reserved.

for Jaz. Until she is stupid enough to let me get away. Happy Valentine's Day, love.