eros the bittersweet

in the shadows

the image of
parting flesh and
wounded breathing
to rise above and
fall beyond
the impervious dissonance
of your moon
and my sigh,
the unborn
lightness of a
heart heavy with
fire, consumed
by desire
heedlessly wanting
the waning
sound of your
nails scratching
my back
and leaving
my skin with
marks of your
impenetrable
and ragged
embrace.

0 comments:

 

anais nin

and the day came when the risk to remain tight in the bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.

t.s. eliot

i should have been a pair of ragged claws.

frida kahlo

i hope the exit is joyful and i hope never to return.