Lead Me Not into Temptation
On this winter’s eve
a white birch beckons the ground
and for a moment
I hear a wintry sound,
but ahh, it is you!
rumbling your swollen glow,
not to singe but embrace,
I thought I left you in Firenze`

My hand,
hesitant yet poised
as wine darkens my knee,
but in this careful hour
I struggle against heat and decision
while you, rising, raging
relentlessly persist
for fire to earn
my pulsing heart,
I thought I left you in Firenze`

Now you,
a specter in the night;
an apparition collapsing my solitude
my fireside chat with the soul
interrupted by seduction,
private meditation manifested
by an old haunt
I thought I left you in Firenze`

I thought I left you
content, satisfied and solo
you had gathered the grapes
from my vineyard for your wine press,
Amalfi coasts now riveted with magenta rushes,
rugged precipice honed by constant caress
facial landscape aged with each memory
of your forever
I thought I left you in Firenze`

Now this fire
my divine companion
sheds her warmth
eclipse by unearthly presence
she cries with each crackle
of the flame
she cries, “non andare dal diavolo, Frankie”
“non andare dal diavolo”
and I say, “shh”
and she says, “don’t go to the devil”
and I say, “shh!”

Go back to your inferno!
suck opium from sailors veins
on the Ponte` Vecchio in August
go away my sweet ghost
go away my unholy kissing cross
go away, go away
I mean,
come here!

copyright, Frank Messina, 2002

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