la pensée...

the thought of him

fit her like

a second skin

there was no

beginning

there was no

end

the dark and dangerous...

he found her dark and dangerous
but how or why she did not know
was it 
his own closed mind
his own blinded black soul
his own bitter brittle heart
that found her dark
that found her dangerous
did he not know that from the
smoldering magma that was her
grew the magnificent transvaal daisy
raising its glorious red orange head to the heavens
the flower that was sunshine here on earth
did he not see that from the
smoldering igneous rock that
was her soul
spewed forth the shimmering steam
that with its incandescent mist dropped beauty all around
did he not feel that from the
erupting firey flow

that was her spirit
came a burning river of passion
channeling its way to his own
he found her dark and dangerous
but how or why she did not know

could he not see

her soul
her spirit
her core
were
all
aglow

she stayed...

there was nothing

she did not shrink

that he could tell her

his words did not deter

that she did not

he was her lot

already know

her love she did bestow

and yet she stayed

for his love she had prayed

she
was not

afraid