My heart does not know
The ways of the experienced lover.
Does not know how to savor
The sweetness of the instant,
Without care for tomorrow.
It only recognizes
How magnificently its cadenced rhythm
Moves with the sound of your voice,
The touch of your lips,
And so it bleeds now –
The slow, methodic drip
Of you leaving me.
Soft, slippered feet whisper
Golden promises of forbidden pleasure,
As flaming threads of pure delight,
Place the delicate tea tray before you,