Never a caressive thought spared for you,
Despite all your lonely wanderings.
With your deadly heady jasmine scent so pure,
So intense it drew them all, inexorably to you.
No. You, even in your savage isolation
Sought dark places to repel their affection.
Still they came, and burned their souls away with
The purity of your loving gaze- your jasmine desire.
Even he-so much more potent than all the others.
Forged from the same amber furnace as thee.
Your mutual desire lifted him, armour and all
In to your cinnamon embrace, mingling with his musk.
Even before your four panting, wild kisses
Parted, as did your lips,
The light had left his eyes, withering youthful vigour
Ashen in its demise.
So near death was he, despairingly
You gave him your essence, and with a faint final breath
Expired-without a word or deed of thanks.
Leaving him to tell tall tales.
© Tom Tide 2016