Anticipation

i contemplate bitter honor and irony
while i wish license to send us both
to ride on passions wild dance
to build children and our life
we tell each other of the things
we will do when next each others eyes meet
but for cold honor, promises, and beliefs
that keep us apart despite our love
.
i often find myself alone with
your picture (clothed)before i drift away
or studying the book of things to try
when first we move intertwined
.
to ease my bodies desires too often
i search the net for pictures
knowing (hoping) that the one
im searching for wont be there
.
perhaps i should bring a camera
when next we skirt the edge of sin
so that at least my eyes on your breast
rest when next i thwart my desires
.
would my honor was less
would your belief less
would one promise not made
so we in passions fires wrythe