Poem – “Left to the Darkest Sin” – Erotica – 3/5/2021

An empire
Of your heated caress,
Formed of these walls
By the raised sculptures
Not ever blown
Over, by your kiss.

A state
Engulfed by your fiery form,
For the darkest sin
Has left its mark.
Of breasts sculpted
By the wake of sadness.

To the sound of your sigh
From a curtain
Of its movement.
An entrance of your warmth,
Through every sign,
Each signal
Where your absence
Leaves a curve.

Let us sleep,
Why don’t you?
Allows us
To weep, to cry pitifully
To sleep.
To dream of the precious cries
Emitted as music
From such amorous eyes,
As you keep holding.