Eve's Connoisseur

Eve--- I wish to know your face I think I’ve seen it once before As I stand outside your house each day Then slip behind your unlocked door At night‘s song, the dead of night That “beware of dog” sign in the yard--- doesn’t. bark. once. I don’t fear you, nor you the phantom shadow--- that is me Switching off your bedroom light now The silhouette of trees are out stretched fingers The hanging full moon sclera, an unblinking eye You are lithe and sprightly, a vision Of prancing venison that gently claims the bed As your canvas, covering, garnish Gorging myself on your secrets, it is a feast for the eyes But now my dearest--- comes the purge: I have no more need for the Louvre or superficial things Forged by the evolution or limits of man I crave the flesh and blood design of woman, nine months of God It is a torturous thing not to scream To feel such imprinting fall upon me As I worship you in the darkness A mad man bound to his church Being left a primitive pilgrim without a prayer Shivering alone in the closet, Whispering psalms to you through the slats.