You Know Me Not

You say you love me;
What of the sadness
I hide with my smile
which you never see?

Your hands cup my breasts:
Yet I there is no caress,
it only feels vile
Am I made just of flesh?

Your mouth is on mine:
What of the blood
where I bit my tongue,
is it also only wine?

You inhale my scent:
What of the flood
which comes seldom, but strong;
Do you find it repugnant?

You profess to know who I am:
I give you my soul to read,
will you listen instead of hear
Or do you even give a damn?

I can open no more
to one who only needs
but is never truly here;
I am closing the door.

by Alice Kriel

Comments (1)

I like this poem Alice, beautiful wording of a difficult subject.