Sweet release,
the midnight hour,
clandestine thoughts,
you will devour.
Take what you can,
remember the past,
passionate delight,
on her divan.

Those bloodless lips,
engulf your own.
Beauty close at hand,
can sink tall ships,
so pillow talk,
whispers in the dark.

A beauty like no other,
vicious as a starved hawk.
Heavy boots, middle of the night,
Your hiding place they shine a light.
Sent to a camp, wither and die,
These are really very bad guys.

©August 14, 2016/ Jerry Pat Bolton