pulsating
grip
wrestles to the ground
thy heart
bare
flagellated
round
beating in the unflinching fist
of hand
as blood drips
into the open wounds
held within
love
seeps into the core
of all that is desired
yet despised
ruthless
in pursuit
for truth
yet its
soggy
heartless
whine
is held in the air
seeks transparency
it cannot hide
from thee
woman
born of blood and soil
can take the longing from
lips
plant them
amidst arid desert
grow life
from death
love cannot turn for long
fallow fields await
planting
love will come
birds will fly home
we will reap
the harvest
sown
No comments:
Post a Comment