Monday, March 3, 2008


As the night was beyond reproach -
Yet I awaken not with you in my arms but scented on my skin.
Might that we have loved with fullness in our hearts
were they shaped by destiny or merely the victims of our fate?
Therefore how am I to love you now,
when I am left to succumb to this misfortune
- Of passion.

© Charles Coakley Simpson 2008

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