It blurs edges and swallows the
day,
climbing inside the pores of
skin. It
begins with an image as
sweet as sugar
and erotic as grapes,
lending darker
thoughts in the
hours of ache.

Lust is salty air and wide ocean
which
leaves one longing for the
quietest
moments, as chastity
long-preserved crumbles
to dust.
It’s a thing of blood and
heeds not
to the affections of heart.

It’s rough religion strips one of ease,
as
night commences with cicadas
singing in
the trees. Lust is a fruit
that lures andΒ 
debauches the body
and mind.

 

 

Photo credits :Β Loui Jover, “Cocktail Drawing,” Pinterest

Posted for ‘Poems in April’ @ Real Toads

Posted on Poetry Pantry @ Poets United