Weakness and fear have led me to here,
expectation has turned me into what I am not

Promises...

Make love to me
Slowly,
With a whisper of tomorrow on your mind,
A memory of yesterday in your eyes
But most of all
Not a promise of today
In your touch.

Wrap me in your arms
and guide me to ecstasy,
take me on a journey
to a place that’s ours
and ours alone,
in this moment,
never to be made again,
never to be had
to be felt,
to be ours,
again.

Undress me
In no uncertain way,
Remove each layer of shame, and
Discard it to the foreground
Of our pretentious existence,
Our disestablished lives.

Speak to me
In tongues of silence
About your promises of today,
the abyss of yesterday,
and the tomorrow that will never be,
that we will never have,
that will never be ours.