The Siren J.W. Waterhouse
I AM YOURS
I am YOURS when Mother Moon she stirs still or sultry
I AM YOURS....
Bound to you as enchanting as a voodoo doll...
I AM YOURS ...
Cold and restlessly...
YOURS......
The yearning Screeeches in me like A Sealess Siren possessed to cull this bleak relentless wanting....
For I AM YOURS.....
I AM YOURS....
BUT YOU are not mine....
YOU are someone else' beau...
Someone else' heart is light and slightly flustered...
Someone else is both love lorn and enthralled...
Someone else is enraptured In the charm...
That is not mine...
YOU are not mine......
YOU are not mine......
You are not MINE....
(c) Helena C Carta
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