In Reverie

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The sunlight through the window frame,
Casting spells writes in shadows
Drawing religious symbols on your naked skin,
As you lay in a reverie upon my bed.
You are real, I know it. For I still feel the wound
Of the raw impression, you have drawn in scarlet upon my soul.
Yet you lay there as innocent as the morning
Leaving barely your outline upon the sheet.
And, I fear that if you wake you will get up and walk away.
As fleeting as a breath of morning air.
That life will continue as before almost as if you were never there.

© 2019 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.



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One touch is enough
To begin all those feelings.
The slow descent we both are needing.
Emotion spiralling twixt heaven and earth,
A twisted teasing
Of all the senses we possess
Until we are flying beyond reason.
© 2018 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

History of Lust

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There is a history of lust
Between you and I.
Of burning desires,
Of unravelling sheets.
Clothing torn,
In our needs and our musts.

There is a history of lust.
Of temperatures rising
In feverish collusions,
Frantic delights
In the hours of night; colliding
In all our needs and our musts.

© 2017 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.




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Speaking of my crimes, my black designs
That went astray. My steps in wicked ways;
When it is just lies to talk of love
Such a pretty word for want and lust.

When all along I knew I never had the words
For speaking of the truth, and my eyes just mould
Darkness into a perversion of the light.

And my defence?
My senses were overwhelmed by the reality of you.
© 2017 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

I Know You Are My Ruin

Day 12 of my review of the year and a poem about giving in…

Made of sticks and stones

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Like pools of cooling water
Blue eyes beckon, lead me to slaughter.
Like the siren you entice me in
With those lips of sweetest poison.
Like a pillow you promise rest
If I lay my head at your breast.
I know it is ruin
To surrender to lust
But I’m just a sinner
And I need your touch.
So like wings, when your arms spread wide
Within your embrace I will come to die.
© 2016 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

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Dirty Deity

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photo credit: azproduction Fire Keeper via photopin (license)

Snatches of song.
When are you coming home?

Sojourns in love
Hand-in-hand, in glove.
Ecstasy and echoes,
Last chance, last throw.
That kiss; a summer game.
That always ends the same.
I walk away
You let me go.
I want to stay
But I don’t know
The words I want to hear
And what it is I fear.
Is it love’s demands;
Deep waters; shifting sand.

Snatches of song
I hear again.
Or passion and thunder.
I fear the flood begins
With this single drop;
Becomes never ending reign.
And I’ll lose sight of land.

Take me under
Hold my hand.
© 2016 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.

That First Time

Undress my soul,
Dive inside,
Consume me whole.
See into the heart of me.

Split the atoms of my being.
Tear me into little pieces.
Prolong the agony I’m feeling
With a glimpse of ecstasy.

I wish this mortal entropy to cease.
Exchanged for decadent decay
When the animal within is released.
When our bloods mingle and combine,
The first time, when on my soul you feast.
© 2016 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.