Amber Skin

I dwell upon that amber skin,
imagining the fire within—such fire
such power, to draw me close
and yet, and yet,
I think of those whose lips you kissed 
then sent away, and how they must have felt that day
when all their dreams went up in smoke,
when all their love became the joke,
the tale you told the girls at tea—
will that be the tale you tell about me?

Is pleasure just a thing to take
like sweet meat from a tray?

Then let us sup and take our fill.

I’ll try not  to complain

© An Assembly of Words, 12/21/2024