onions
come gift-wrapped in gossamer gauze
and split into spirals of pearl

you
wear a raven rag worn to feather-down
and bury unplumbed depths of body beneath

love
is shaped of (one) the yearning for you
and (two) the ambition to act well by you

one
I will rather hold soft than shiny
I will rather taste sweet than sour

two
you grow deeper than any root
and I, a storyteller, garden souls

I
(three) still fear to rip apart never grasping
what first desires or second requires

 Desire, don't you drag me down 

Into the dark abyss. 
Let go your hold upon my heart-- 
Love is not meant to die like this. 
Temptation, tempt my tongue no more 
Let this be our last kiss. 
Forget me next time you're in town-- 
Love cannot die like this. 
Demons, depart from my dreams. 
God, please take away the twist 
That perverts my heart, my thoughts and soul. 
Love will not die like this. 

Trapped behind glass,

no way to escape

from this cast.

Keeping me here,

keeping me still. A barrier.

Things too close to my heart 

to ignore,

but too far to grasp.

Unknown before

from behind this glass.

A want that is true

a dream that is beautiful.

But the reward is un-grantable.

The forbidden fruit

tempts even the good. 

Fingers slide down 

the surface,

tracing happiness

un-allowed, un-reached 

but wanted.

 I used to love to read

It went hand in hand with to write

I used to love to lose sleep

Reading books all through the night

But now I don’t read as much

Even though I should

I love the stories I encounter

I find them really good

I find myself hesitating

To read something written well

Because every time I read something masterful

A bit of jealousy in me swells

Shannon Hale invents names with ease

Meg Whalen Turner holds you prisoner