Fire Bites

Trembling, I am sorry You have left me. On the phone last night You told me. To be stung and your golden bust, busy bee's. When you grab the moon, and I go back and forth in you, Jasmine, look how I am shaking. Or shallow breathing, wounded deeply by me. I am again sorry that you found yourself there, were. Deeply overwhelmed with my love, as if. When you last closed, I see into your eyes. And with our last attempt at the end of compromise. Nine months latter such a sweet name. The gift of life without thought, without strife. Never again will I, pause. Drinking only from you would I love you and give.