I Felt

Soft upon the back of her neck,
Disarmed by hope if she rejects.
Strength and time are old friends of mine,
With “que sera” lightly sketched.

Pressed to her forehead is best,
The descent is a lover’s chest.
Days and hours are old friends of ours,
With “carpe diem” deeply etched.

Clung to her belly is the sin,
With the wild of winter creeping in. 
Now, the enemy of our enemy is our friend,
As we jump ship to our burning end. 

You made me,
And this is what you get.