The question still hits me
every time, between the eyes —
could Artemis fire an arrow
that flew more true or
troubled more?
Swear you really love me?
The answer is instant
a soft whisper on my lips
some form of an oath
taken eons before
I ever spoke it
It is simple to whisper
of the purity of my love
and perhaps easier still to
physically act the part
of devotee, lover
I have acted that part
with others in other times.
it pains me that this may
sound only a recitation born
of convenience and lust
How do I bound
to earth and mortal
sanctify an oath forged
on some god’s altar
ages before our lips met?
What chance have I
to convince you
of the truth of our love
when such words of
its power do not exist?
a soft whisper on my lips
I hold you against me
bridging the divide of fear
until you again feel
safe in this love _________________ At the touch of love everyone becomes a poet. - Plato
Last edited by lostsoul on Wed Feb 10, 2010 6:43 pm; edited 1 time in total
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