One Year

It was not advisable,
not wise,
logic flew away,
like a micrant bird
next spring will return...
One year uncontrolable
passion burst like waves at the coast,
lust scrumble...slipping... on the autumn leaves
you didn't had to tell me...
but i needed...
It was a work of art,
you should had done this
paint on me...
With words...
Now both of us would be free...