I tried a little to create a poem that was as steeped in the beautiful mysticism that one would usually expect to find in poetry, but couple it with a despondency and violence that's true of the most passionate fuck.
I don't think I succeeded.
Bury deep your secrets;
Know that I will dig,
burrow and swathe myself
to explore your every inch-
the body and the soul-
with my fingers,
tongue
and brain.
Hide your shame
with lies and acts
and intoxication,
if you must,
but know I'll never wear
your embarrassment for you-
I'll be your picture of piety:
blissful ignorance
as I harbour submerged truths.
How I love that every performance
has brought you to me
this day
and only as you are,
which for all our treacheries
is unkempt and beautiful
as a child
in the maelstrom of time.
Now take me harder unto you
so we two, as one, may breathe.
No comments:
Post a Comment