Untitled 18

it is within my power
to change my shape
and be what pleasure
is there to give me
but i cannot, i won't.
the shape you see
when we first met,
shall be the same
when i will finally
leave you. It was
not pleasure that
was the reason.
It was also something
beyond shapes
In fact, the shape
does not matter anymore.
It is temporary.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!