SLAM!

 (This message was edited by kittiara on 08-03-05 @ 6:41 pm EDT)

"Byron" 

Past the hour of hooting owls,
it is then when you come visit me;
seduce me with poetic phrases,
tell me of times long past.

Am I your prey?
Keep feeding, my dear.
It's said Greece was your doom
and yet you are here,
whispering, holding me close.
Your lips against my shoulder,
you tell me you have lived
and that you have not lived in vain.

Yet, what are you now?
A restless memory, a spectre,
accursed, eternal traveller,
ever searching for
an existential truth?

Byron,
always with your eye on the ladies.
Sensualist, brilliant, daring…
How can I resist
your offered inspiration?

Temptation;
to talk with you,
feel your being, closer,
to cross the mists of time,
discover what lies beyond.

Perhaps
I should know better,
but as the nights wear on,
I find myself yielding
to your loving expertise.