Tortured Flight

I miss I miss

the soft kiss

of pure bliss

of your lips.

I can not it

raptures me

the want it is

ripe let bleed.

I’ll watch our

little dance I

lay in corners

to world I lie.

I fly away you

will do it too.

So let us give

time for us do.

I am tortured

unto revelry be

an ear for me

let me breathe.