What I feel for you 
goes beyond telescopic 
gaze of a poet's heart,
delicate details of a fine art

Not always that soulful,
Neither often confined by virtue
Sometimes passion can be brutal,
Derives pleasure while being cruel

But one word from you,
And my flaming reins will let go
I can only have that which you'll bestow
Not a scratch less, never a kiss more

A rhythmic dance of the power drift,
Undeluded by laws of ownership,
I call, you answer and it's volition
that makes us bend the knee.


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