A wicked wind of change blows in.
Touching every inch of my naked skin.
What danced in a heart before grows still,
Quieting love’s sweet song against my will.
Hush gross knowledge and condemnation!
Why must you torture me with speculation!
To be cursed in all but love would be a gracious trade.
In what way can I keep the promises I’ve made?
Fear seems to haunt me in a ghostly mist.
Oh, if only I could recall our very first kiss!
© 10.31.11