Love Of A Poet Was The Death Of Me

[diva]

Falling... Falling in love with a poet was the death of me
So don't tell me there was nothing when I'm mourning
Haunted by the memory of us caught in the moistness
The warmth of seduction do you remember how it felt
How bad I wanted you and what I did to pay homage
It was the defiance that was killing
Eroding my subconscious how I just wanted it reciprocated
And how you at the end denied me my misgivings
There is no such thing as dying a loving death
I remember the dream I had you were taking my breathe
You had your hands wrapped around my neck
While in the middle of a sexual act
I know you remember that part
After all there are things still unsaid

And I fell hard for the love of a poet
His heart was my night-light my plight
So many infinite possibilities we shared
No matter how many times I go over it
It sounded like fire and desire
As we could of belonged together
But I can't even make you my friend
So you claim to be hating me
How should that make me feel

I guess my beauty was something you are blind to
After all if your looking at the outside and not on the in
And there are lustful intentions how could it ever be platonic
For now it is just haunted caught up in an indignant ecstasy
Whether you were turned on turned out a giving tree withered
The orgasm lasted longer than the definition
So I swallowed it all down my throat in fascination
Just wanted to know what love was
Thinking you could show me between the distance
So the resistance of the wind that blew 11 hundred miles
Across a galaxy and the light of my star is fading
Declining my payment was it the wrong poet the wrong love
The wrong intentions we delve ourselves from wings of a dove


©2011 Destiny Equality

[Sable]

Awesome!!!! Extremely raw and real. I found myself wanting more. I could write about the feelings I find creeping up when I read this. Poets alone are a true force, oh but to intertwine and ignite passion between two.....WOW!!! Then, as love often does, it fades and wans, because we poets change like the wind, and are melancholy to the nth degree. But the ride, you know it was worth the ride. And at least you can say that you had the chance to make love to a poet! You can write volumes on this, sweet poet! Keep writing!

[R.E.T.S.]

"And I fell hard for the love of a poet..."

Oh, yes. I've been there, and sadly, may have even been that poet once or twice. Excellent scribe!