[A Sinful Glimpse of Passion]
It has been ages,
my dear,
since the lights of our past life
poured down upon our solemn secrets
of lust and betrayal.
Bound to the tears
that hold us in between the
muffled cries of our forbidden affair,
we pray for the perfected precision
of undesired rain to hold us
for one last moment.
Passion seeps from my lips,
staining my skin, never letting
that night escape the vastness
of my consciousness.
�and rain washes away my sleep,
leaving me wanting more�
t.seymour
2.26.2003