Eros

The pulp of my heart is plagued,
thy youthful plight is thy disaster.
Love is lethargic, slow to
spin its enticing thread.
While the silk worms
of Eros insidiously weave
together life’s ingredients,
nubile youth await the
dark, cavernous mouth
of bed sheets to swallow
them in a blissful sea.
For thou art beautiful
chastity, but you are
as thin as a cloud, illusive in
your ways. Carrying
tears in your gray hull.