Writer, Poet, Antagonist

In Honesty

I Crave a hit

Of naked flesh.

Impassioned tangled

Arms and legs.

A deep recess inside of me

Needs sense, no tacit tense


Part and part relations.

Realest sex

Is all that calms the quakes

And lays my heart

To rest.


I cut the feel of love with touch divine

I dose my veins with lust to sate my soul

With line on line of verse, that keeps the first

Dawn light that’s breaking on an empty bed

From darkening my day

 Each day,

And cloistering my head.


Adrian EarleComment