My Voice
The looking glass
The Looking Glass
Perhaps I expect too much.
or accept too little.
You touch me, with tongue and promise,
futures dangle from practiced lips.
You control the moon and stars,
hold at bay, daylight.
In your arms,
temptation forgets wisdom. Caution closes her eyes.
Chesire, you grin,
rampant with passion,
brimming with knowledge of my weakness.
You thrive inside
my skin,
leave me at odds with my own defenses.
You stir the night with bold hand,
seduce, with sweaty palm.
While tracing forever on my pulse,
you build castles on quick sand.
I fall into you,
always
Mary
Perhaps I expect too much.
or accept too little.
You touch me, with tongue and promise,
futures dangle from practiced lips.
You control the moon and stars,
hold at bay, daylight.
In your arms,
temptation forgets wisdom. Caution closes her eyes.
Chesire, you grin,
rampant with passion,
brimming with knowledge of my weakness.
You thrive inside
my skin,
leave me at odds with my own defenses.
You stir the night with bold hand,
seduce, with sweaty palm.
While tracing forever on my pulse,
you build castles on quick sand.
I fall into you,
always
Mary
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The looking glass
The looking glass
