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A Beautiful Severity
What is thou really?
And from whence didst thou proceed?
Doest the ice of mine stare
Makest thou weary enough
To make mine heart bleed and tear?
Or doest the fringe of mine hair
That drags over thine mountains of
Flesh provoke the temptress that thou wert?
Does it ache like the ache
For a lust that thou shall
Never infringe upon?
Does the pang of skin on skin
Whine like a fresh but longed for sting?
Does the tinge of
A spontaneous caress upon your thigh
Move you to dip your toe in the
Plight-be-frozen-sky?
Then Why?
Why doest thou not smile at the wake of a beautiful Severity?
