Poetic Interlude XXXIV

I found this piece in an old notebook of mine. While I don’t think much of the poem itself, it made me chuckle.

Taxonomy of Morals
 
Locked within my thumping breast
A heart lies beating, bold,
Wanting what it knows is best –
A romance, as of old.
But though a touch makes pulses quicken,
That very touch makes my heart sicken.
 
Desire makes me weak with grief,
But I’ll not be abused –
The flesh may soon receive relief,
Or else the flesh may bruise.
Yes, giving in is often sweet,
Obeying the commands of meat.
 
I know, then, I must separate
Love and Lust and Luck:
A rose, no more the distillate
Of an indifferent fuck.
Yes, quick to meet, and quick to part –
I lock, again, said pounding heart.
 
©2013 by Tyler J. Yoder. All rights reserved
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About Ty DeLyte

Madame DeLyte has suffered a grave disappointment - YET AGAIN - and still believes that freedom, beauty, and truth are what's valuable, rather than vulgar cash. He'd add love to that list - but, well, what can he say about love?
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