Poetry – Ignorance is Bliss

My ignorance of you is bliss,
a power so sweet and hot.
Infatuation I am made for,
reality I am not.

My stomach fills with pleasing fire,
my mind with gossamer threads.
We roam until the sun comes up,
then tumble into bed.

My fingertips don’t need to know you,
each inch is already mine.
I can fix and mould and shape you,
my beloved, my divine.

This is rapture with no burnt edges,
no awkward truths or citric wedges.
Just me and my cut-out in all it’s glory,
Just my sentence, forget the whole story.

1 thought on “Poetry – Ignorance is Bliss”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s