I tell you that you are mine,
and you do ever resist,
even as I lean closer in,
for the struggled whisper
of love's last kiss;
possession may be
nine-tenths of some law,
but all I have conquered
is far less than all I saw;
to have you
and hold you,
this is my crime,
and happy to be convicted,
and to serve out my time;
I am lost in the notion
of possessing you,
since without your kiss,
I am certainly through.

May 3, 2009.

Copyright © 2009, Ricky A. Pursley. All right reserved.

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