Oh sweet bleeding heart with your wanton ways
are you yearning to take me to my grave?
Should my heart tremble and trip
at the mere thought of pressing you to my lips?
If I give in to your urgent call
would anyone out there miss me at all?
And once I taste you, will my breathing falter
will my bright future be forever altered?
Will my breath be the shallow grave
where you at last…
decide to lay?
Then when you lay your head
to rest my life will silently
©2018 Linda Lee Lyberg