Untitled

Your looks
Your eyes
Your components various
Yourself
To surmise
A being nefarious.

Your hand
That holds
A tight grip clenched
Your fleshy
Skin folds
Your cheeks trenched

Your thighs
All clad
In my own secret joys
My lips
Are glad
Clasped at their toys

Your best
Intentions
And the pain caused
Struggling
With tensions
And love well forced

Oh for the
Rhyme and
Rhythm of our words
To fall
On open
Ears and open minds.

Oh for the
Right words
Those ones that I felt
Those words
The have no
Sounds except in between

Those carefully
Placed blows
Of well placed words
Those feelings
I never said
But that you heard.