A Six Stout Poem
Lead me on that I may know
the marks you would leave
upon my soul
Break me upon your heart
that I may feel the weight
and groan
I need to know the treasures
in your eyes the art of your limbs
Do not leave me without you
If I am comely let me abide
till I am broken
and know my demise
past redemption finally lost
When tongue is broken
and eyes cannot speak
a fire stretches in my limbs
and I remember bleak
hours mute upon the telephone
promises intoned an
endless play of words
logic chopping hearts wooden speech
Your hands if I could hold
each finger separately
the trace of every touch inside me
Your breasts against mine
an my arms around thee
my hands around your head
a benediction on thee
even as our teeth touch
and our tongues embrace
I have loved thee
Oh, break the tender trace
of nerved trembling flesh
and make me mute
my leaking eyes
a river vanished in your hair
an thee not moved unmoving
Then I shall leave you
When love has been broken there
Copyright 08-01-90 Unpublished Works William M. Shannon