Fists of love

I hate that a man,
With wild cravings,
A burning heart,
And swirling thoughts

Locked in a haze
This labyrinth of pleasures
An eternal jail for my soul
Glamoured by your beauty

You chain my heart,
A noose around my neck,
the hands,
And feet

Bleeding my skin
Following your shadow
Tailing your fragrance,
Of a black rose

The apple of ecstasy
Fallen from a tree,
Into these thorny roses
Where you make your bed,

In which,
I must lay, with you,
To hate that I love you,
But love the way you love me

Between these sheets
Soaked,
With blood and sweat
From our fists of love

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