The White Sin

Why is it you
Whose body calls to mine?

Behind your eyes
That same rabid desire.
The sin never realized
Filling, wanting, waiting
That handful of flame.

And yet the burning is enough.
The ash would fill my mouth
A taste where
Your name and kiss had been.

by Suzanne Bronson on Wednesday, February 13, 2008

Next entry: The Split

Previous entry: The Jaguar

« Aspen Poets' Society