I cannot

get enough

I shall not lie

It quarrels with

the stolen wind

To say I would not die

For one

last

final

scent-filled night

wrapped haltingly

against your skin

While listening

to the end-time thrumming

of your glorious heart.

September 9, 2013 Meldrum Poetry Workshop

Prompt: Edgar Poe to Helen of Troy ~ beauty perfumed sea desperate seas classic face glory brought me home statue agate lamp