Torn
He put dewdrops on my lips, flowers in my hair
My hand he held on to, in an effort to pair
I stood still in an effort, I could hardly bear
Then all I could do was pull away, the touch tear
♦
Touch me not! My leaves I close again, do not dare
I am no sweet kitten, no little, frightened hare
A thousand sorrows I speak, their cloak I do wear
Yet flaring nostrils I seethe, a sad angry mare
♦
Hands closed on my bosom, my love has become rare
Only pure buds of innocence, in it can share
To them only allegiance, I can ever swear
For them my lasting breath, for them only my care