I’ve given you enough warning
I’m not a great person to love, with
My shall-we-have-tea-first temper
It’s a destroyer? Me –thinks not.
I’m not just lips, and skin and poems
I’m a mansion, almost an abode
I’ll take you to galleries and sad movies
Kiss you in front of Gustav’s spot.
At times fresh pecks in bird-chirpy gardens
caresses oft’ musty libraries & monuments
The smells you will gather in the recesses
Of your cortex, will keep you hot.
Pillager yes. Like a storm, inflamed
plunging berries soaked in soil inseparable
Exhilarating though, Leave you an earthy & emotional
Toil, stains that do not blot.