THE FRACTURED VENUS

By Greg Jones

I give you my eyes

What use I for sight?

You, my last love

are my vision, my light

Nine fingers are yours

on a silk laden tray

The tenth one remains

to bid you to stay

Here is my skin

to wear as your own

May it grant you damp pleasures

of which I have known

What lay tween my legs

is no longer there

That simple distraction

Now glossy and bare

I offer my heart

still throbbing and wet

Torn from my breast

without doubt nor regret

Take off this face

I no longer need

From vain uncertainties

I have finally been freed

What’s left but my mouth

Yours only to kiss

It will speak of my love

You need more than this?

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