
~ Written to me by Stephanie, otherwise known as FleurDeSang, on Friday, October 06, 2006. ~ Night settles in a withered rocking chair and starts to sing to me- I can love you only with kisses and poppies wet by the dewy tears of a new mourning my lips dying on yours in sweet suffering: This void between us is ever-growing. A cancer of bones and ash Of tragedy that sodomizes every waking hour Even in dusty dreams. A lament. A rotting pomegranate in your soul. The winds disentangle themselves in the jagged nails of dark pines Black howls of lost voices, or maybe It is just you in the distance? Somewhere in this horrid emptiness… you are looking for me. The moon glows like phosphorous on Vagrant waters, A ship crawls along the dead horizon, My kisses rusted upon those old anchors, And I whisper white love into the sails, So that it may float into your precious heart… Hour of nostalgia dressed in passion of weeping Tears smiling as they fall And my lips curl from the flame of your kiss Still residing, still burning Delicious warmth of your soul caressing mine… The biggest stars look at me with your eyes- Blue velvet. Jade needles. Gray memories. All of this and more in your sweetly destructive gaze Tiny mirrors reflecting the same beauty I see in you Your lips part in a seductive torture and utter my name (((Fireworks of infinite pancakes and syrup Heart like feathers and the scent of jasmine))) And I am a mere puddle of crushed roses and honey, Melted into your tender embrace, our bodies fused together, I bathe in the divinity of your smile, the twinkling in your eyes, the touch Of your skin Love. Unconditional. |
Author's Comments~ Written to me by Stephanie, otherwise known as FleurDeSang on Friday, October 06, 2006. ~ Visit here to catch a glimpse of her and I... (posted with permission) CommentsHidden by Owner The bold and italics are her own.
I really don't mean to advertise... it's just... if you liked that poem she wrote for me, these that I wrote for her have just as much image and emotional impact as that.... -- For centuries,understand immortality. Yet, I did not ask to be made. I will never again know your sun upon my face Or the comfort of a grave I am not alive, I am not dead, this is hell on earth It is October's perpetual agony, it is the shadow realm. |
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