Symptoms

Reads: 59  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 0

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

To burn with desire and keep quiet about it is the greatest punishment we can bring on ourselves. To see one naked is to recall the earth, let's hurry entwining ourselves as one our mouth broken our soul bitten by love, so time discovers us safely destroyed.

I've often lost myself,
in order to find the burn that keeps everything awake. I know there is no straight road
No straight road in this world
Only a giant labyrinth
Of intersecting crossroads.

Never let me lose the marvel
of your statue-like eyes, or the accent
the solitary rose of your breath
places on my cheek at night.

I am afraid of being, on this shore,
a branchless trunk, and what I most regret
is having no flower, pulp, or clay
for the worm of my despair.

If you are my hidden treasure,
if you are my cross, my dampened pain,
if I am a dog, and you alone my master,

Never let me lose what I have gained,
and adorn the branches of your river
with leaves of my estranged Autumn.

 


Submitted: May 06, 2021

© Copyright 2021 VelvetGentleman23. All rights reserved.

  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Reddit
  • Pinterest
  • Invite

Add Your Comments:


Facebook Comments

Other Content by VelvetGentleman23