Something dug up from the archives ;-)
Ready, powdered and perfumed
To steal his kisses once again
Knowing he is not hers, but like an addict
She craves one more taste, just one more...
A discreet tap on the window, her heart leaps
Racing to the door, forgotten, the calm
Before the storm of their meeting
They devour each other like wolves
Hungry, needy, greedily eating
Till their bodies can take no more
Sated and abated, she closes the door,
Hears the taxi carrying him back to his home
Still warm from this taboo, she hugs herself
Her smile wanes, turns slowly to tears
Newtons apple dropped at her feet,
As the reality hits, they can never be
Trapped by his vows, his family
They'll never share a meal, or see a show
His favourite food? She doesn't know....
She has never watched him sleep, dream
Nor greet his face in the morning light
If he died, or went away, no-one could tell her.
She sees herself at the cemetary
A stranger in black, concealed, taking witness
Grave surrounded by his loved ones, not she
No, he is not hers, and she is alone
In love with a man who only seeks her
For his own satisfaction in an unhappy life
A life he is not free, nor willing to share
They say she should burn in hell
But in her heart, she is already there
With the aroma of him in her hair, her pillow
A stain in her mind, she drifts off sobbing seas
Knowing the familiar, bittersweet pain
Of being the other woman.
Poetry by Purple Phoenix
Read 506 times
Written on 2009-02-22 at 03:02
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text
Taboo
She waits for him like a thief in the nightReady, powdered and perfumed
To steal his kisses once again
Knowing he is not hers, but like an addict
She craves one more taste, just one more...
A discreet tap on the window, her heart leaps
Racing to the door, forgotten, the calm
Before the storm of their meeting
They devour each other like wolves
Hungry, needy, greedily eating
Till their bodies can take no more
Sated and abated, she closes the door,
Hears the taxi carrying him back to his home
Still warm from this taboo, she hugs herself
Her smile wanes, turns slowly to tears
Newtons apple dropped at her feet,
As the reality hits, they can never be
Trapped by his vows, his family
They'll never share a meal, or see a show
His favourite food? She doesn't know....
She has never watched him sleep, dream
Nor greet his face in the morning light
If he died, or went away, no-one could tell her.
She sees herself at the cemetary
A stranger in black, concealed, taking witness
Grave surrounded by his loved ones, not she
No, he is not hers, and she is alone
In love with a man who only seeks her
For his own satisfaction in an unhappy life
A life he is not free, nor willing to share
They say she should burn in hell
But in her heart, she is already there
With the aroma of him in her hair, her pillow
A stain in her mind, she drifts off sobbing seas
Knowing the familiar, bittersweet pain
Of being the other woman.
Poetry by Purple Phoenix
Read 506 times
Written on 2009-02-22 at 03:02
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
|
Kathy Lockhart |
|
Blue River |
| Texts |
 by Purple Phoenix Latest textsCatharsisEggs on Freeways Blank Canvas Seasons of Green Sweet Sunday |
Increase font
Decrease