She is the mistress,
of his feelings.
Lay bare he does...
and stare out of heat mist windows.
Capturing moonlight,
on his skin with wishes to be touched.
She is the mistress,
of his feelings.
Unapologetic are rays carried,
from him he thrusts.
He trusts that she
will someday receive his yearning.
He burns in hunger longing...
And she knows not of his need!
Lawrence S. Pertillar
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/she-knows-not/
