City of Legends

I want to penetrate your soul
to find the sweet meats deep inside
you shelter now, with virtue’s pride,
in pensive wait for dark control.

bright and deadly is the word
you thought you caught in whispered plea
from paramour on bended knee
who fled your bed once he was cured.

desire, disease, in twain, are blent
to make a potion of delight
from pierce’d flesh and cooling night
and sins we wish we could repent.

I would share what yet remains
in tortured frame and crack’d heart
I’ve welded shut to heal, in part.
until you call for fragrant stains.

(more to yet come)

William F. DeVault. all rights reserved.