That Which Belongs To Him


He won't go there.
My heart;
The one place I longed him to thrust
Life for me has been pulled apart,
Scattered amongst cobwebs, dust.

He won't lay an ear near.
My heart;
When it pounds, the sound he mutes
Eluding true love no doubt,
He flees like a convict on foot.

He won't peer into.
My heart;
To witness it hemorrhaging with passion
I'm a nude casting of art,
His vision of sculpted attraction.

Yet-
He won't go there.

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