Devious act of calling me honey

Playing out in shades of cunning,

His devious act of calling her honey.
Tandem of boredom
Fueled by distant cargo,
Wields his caramelized loathing, 
Scorning the sedentary clothing
Of expected and reflected.
 
Deeply buried in psychosis
Lay the whip of stinging attraction.
Covet her body to the edge of a fraction,
And leave herbcovered, 
bruised, and abused,
craving for more of the same craving for more,
of the insane.
 
Thrust of true lust.
loss of true trust,
From a man who is cunningly honey,
Bored, but baggaged.
Sweetly hating conventional convention,
Uncovering his secrets in the seduction
of a goddess.
 
As he craves more,
as he takes more 
from an obsession
of confessions, 
Lingers, always lingering.
Never, letting go. 
Never, letting, go. 
Author's Notes/Comments: 

Removed from the end from an excellent suggestion

you must let go

you will let go 

of let go. 

It was as if I was writing a mantra to look at what you are saying. You need to let go. But it weakens the poem so thank you fir the feedback. Done and done 

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eleven_eleven's picture

i really like this, but would

i really like this, but would end it at "never letting go"

djtj's picture

You may be right

I see what you mean. And you may be right. However those let goes were for me to let go. But fir the sake of the poem,  I think you’re right