Forbidden Fruit

I hunger for emotional sustenance.

I thirst for the quenching kiss of significance.

I look upon you intently from afar, in the distance.

I recognize the symmetry of a star.

So bright are your eyes, sharp and piercing.

Searing thru my façade of disinterest and pride.

I find myself in spirited admiration of the contours of your heavenly body.

Pronounced by the softest curves magnifying your angelic face.

With need intensified by yearning.

Compounded with unfulfilled desire.

I ponder the impossible.

I breach hades furnace to reach towards your essence, symbolized by eternal fire.

To harvest the seed that shapes your root.

To nurture the being that defines your truth.

I lock eyes with Eden's serpent.

Entranced upon a rhythmic current.

Compelled by rapture.

Bewitched by the beauty you capture.

In unnerving haste, my heart race with an obscene obsession to taste.

Grasping a fading sense of decency,

I prostrate to supplicate to expectancy.

Here I stand plagued by the constriction of mundane perception.

Which denies, threatens, and restricts conception.

The idea of tasting your exquisite nature was martyred at inception.

Yet, deceived by the crass force of delusion.

Tempered by the burning passion of temptation.

In spell-bound detriment.

I reach for you.

Michael Bell