My Mad Lover

His eyes are glass
Not my lover’s visage
His mouth, the perfect curve of his lip
Spews accusations
He is a mad willow
and I am a feeble, wilted rose.
How could I let him
Steal my attention and run away?
Where did his
mind go?
His grasp on my wrist
Tight as a child’s fist around a rattle
Cold,
he drains my soul from me.
I want to take him,
Give him the truth while flaunting
His tokens around my neck
But
I must obey my father.
I want to watch the rain with him tonight
But
Now he’s the storm
his words are the thunder
his scowl, terrifying lightning.
I long for his strong hands
to graze my soft hip
But
He’s away now
And the subtle tune from my lips-
once on his
is all that keeps my company.