Monday 14 September 2009

For my words are all I really am.


Little Dreams

Little dreams
Those minute memories
A splinter in my mind
Just tiny moments I can never forget
Lingering deep down inside
They shift about nervously
Entwining with my thoughts
Until once again they shrink
Nearly not existing at all.

*

Fruit Of The Blood

Her richness in red
She is full bodied
So ripe to perfection
And so aroused when I taste her.
But she will not let me drink all of her
For she is far too potent
We just breathe together
And let the moon be our witness.
Just like the picking of a forbidden fruit
I have stolen you from such loneliness
And alike the desire of a rouge wine
I hold you with the intent of just simply sipping you.

*

When... (everyone turned away)

Smooth strokes in the back of my head,
Penetration only a few inches from my everything,
Why did everyone turn away,
Maybe they thought I was already vacated.

This is the face I shall wear to my wake,
You can wrap me in ribbons
And tell everyone I was just a fake,
But beneath these remains enclosed in this casket,
A rose petal I did not swallow,
And when you are told that I have transpired from this life
I hope you reply when... Maybe when I turned away.

*

An Impression

To know a body of reckless lines
Where past impressions are unseen by eyes
The tender exposure by a faultless man
Renders this figure as second hand.

*

In Accordance With My Heart

She has gone
And left this space
wallowing in my thoughts.

And suffice to say
I am in tatters
But still in accordance with my heart.

My love wanders aimlessly
patching up those dreams
And renovating time.

One touch of your hand
Although in a reverie
And I am yours again.

*

Loving Sacrafice

Two flames respectively eye each other
The darkness shy and taunt
Standing tall upon their burning effigies
A fusion of light is anxiously sought.

Displaying a naked dance in colours
Eager to embrace the night
Shadows patiently looking in
Though the gloom retreats at a length.

Spitting the zealous red
The tongue tied executions
When all is left is a wisp of smoke
Finally two lovers are together.


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