Poezja

Apart you tear
Me, apart you tear
With your devious hands
And around my toes
I dote upon in trance
In denial of your woes

When I turn down to stare
And with your eyes in my eyes
My anger away does scare
With my hands raised to the skies
To climb those heights that tall
A pull – I feel; a pull – I fall

Yet if I should stand again my ground
I should find you always around
In retry everything does recur
And must warn now, I truly dare
“If you won’t push my arse to the sky
Don’t pull my toes with a teasing sigh.”