In the dark, the flame of the candle stood still in the air.
The light showing only in shadows upon your form,
I stood stricken by the sight of you;
for the first time did I know fear,
and then pain.
And I stood still that I might not spill this pain more precious than pleasure.
But your eyes were cold bodies of black that carried no reflection.
A work in progress
The light showing only in shadows upon your form,
I stood stricken by the sight of you;
for the first time did I know fear,
and then pain.
And I stood still that I might not spill this pain more precious than pleasure.
But your eyes were cold bodies of black that carried no reflection.
A work in progress
VIEW 8 of 8 COMMENTS
[Edited on Sep 07, 2005 10:36PM]