Unknown

they do not know me querida
the man who pens erotic poetry
and remembers the feel of you skin
beneath his trembling fingertips
the man who writes of volcanic kisses
and still tastes the honey of your lips

they only see the outer shell
that holds the inner soul
of broken man

they do not know the power of memories
that still gather around my bedside
and how the fragrance of your perfume
still plays havoc with my senses at night
they think me shallow, predatory, deceitful
a man who wants only pleasures of flesh
without knowledge of sacred love

they only see the sensual poetry
my heart is well hidden behind
they don’t know us

i am a private man, keeping to himself
the beloved ghost that still haunts me
unknown man who finds temporary solace
in giving and taking pleasure with those
who find solace in the same, no destroyer
too broken to ever break another’s heart


DJA 7/10/2008