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#3
Irish McGhee
Your eyes, forever forbidden from my gaze,
Will shrink and shrivel, wither, fall to dust.
And there, upon the floor, held in daze,
Remembering my beauty held in lust.
Your hands, forbidden from my silken skin,
Will harden, callous, scratch, and pain with touch.
Then, thrust in gloves and kept from kith and kin,
They ache, and then you’ll cry, “I miss you much”.
Your soul since stripped of my heart’s firmament,
It fades, it wanes, it dulls, to earthworm glow,
Then cast in darkness, crooked, and horribly bent.
And all of this from love you did not show.
And so take heed my lovers handsome and fair
Damned are those fools who cast a futile stare.