Bitten by passion

In forbidden times

Meaning is missing

As each hour chimes

Watching his body

His face

Through a screen

Can a coin set him free

From this vending machine?

He offers a penny

Just for her thoughts....

' If you'd been some chocolate, I'd get what I've bought'

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Like a little 

House sparrow

In a winter

Of sorrow

She's waits 

At his table

For breadcrumbs

Of love

Standing for hours

Till sun turns

To showers

Till seeds 

Turn to flowers

Before she

Gives up

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Sweet at the tip

Then flavour slides

Take another sip

Sour at the sides

Swilling around

Taste starts 

To lack

Now all

That's left

Is bitter

At the

Back

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Like a spare button

Affixed on

To nothing

She was

Living in dread

Of finding

No thread

Through the

Eye of a

Needle

His excuses

Were feeble

No need

To be

Sewn

To a garment

Outgrown

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