Breath Wren

sex spoken of
in just whispers
little said
of fluid motion
of power it serves

screaming
of days filled in embrace
of those pacified
on pangs of its pleasures
temples and reigns
built and fallen
in the in between
folds of the skin
entered and left
pistols peaking

tales be told
blood running
soldiers in battle
falling under gun and blade
dodging and dropping
rarely looking up to the goings on
lords and ladies of the manner
as war rages on
pillow talk of bed fellows