needs me to say yes. Quite the contrary. She already has hers. Twirling brown words flow through the pain of viscous brain. "Bury the dead for fear that they walk to the grave in labour." I remember the car. The street. The night. The words. "You're not acting like yourself." What's myself? Who is me? Why couldn't I have lived the life I was? Why couldn't I have told her the truth? That I was so deeply in love, so mesmerized by all that was her, that I could do no more than pray at her alter. Of course I acted different! Here was my Goddess, my kneeling honor.
Tag Archives: poem
Not That She
Artemis Kissed
Long-limbed
Stop!
and loosely bound,
Your lips say
A pale reflection of Soul
See me
engages more than I can dream.
Look at me
To eat, to melt, to reconstruct
Cry my word
Myself within those Lips;
Unto your life.
Bliss, I cry....
Birthday Dialogues
I I am become visions: archer without horse; water without sea. I cannot swim this confusion, cannot pierce this effervescent veil. I ride an ocean's expanse, poems rendered without words. II Doubt has stricken me this afternoon. I am succumb: plague of insecurity.
alaintodd 