White Sunday 22

There are angels and demons, creatures of perfect beauty and vile affections.
Then, there is you. Faint taint notwithstanding, it adds to your charms
and I find no harm in having a healthy curiosity and a desire for pleasure.
Indeed, I look forward to when skin meets skin and the thin protections
of our civilized illusions melt like tears before kisses, in my arms
I would find you no less beautiful and perfect, measure for measure
a treasure of your heart, I hope, manifested in more carnal expressions
that we can share with purpose to an expression and consummation, warms
to heat to fire to immolation, in which I would lay suttee, to blend my fate with yours.


William F. DeVault. all rights reserved.

forgive the long 9th line...