This love that flows // Beneath my skin // Simmers into golden light // Roiling shadows // Rise to match its height.
If I’ve ever touched you- // With my tongue, // My arms, // My sweat- // I’ve hated you, too.
Continue reading… easier written than lived.
This love that flows // Beneath my skin // Simmers into golden light // Roiling shadows // Rise to match its height.
If I’ve ever touched you- // With my tongue, // My arms, // My sweat- // I’ve hated you, too.
Continue readingThe process of creation can be quite illuminating.
I wrote a love poem recently, and I felt something akin to vindication as I wrote it.
Such a martyr for love I am!
The rest of that initial discarded draft has been lost to the mists of my memory, but here the falsehood of my emotion is left to bleach beneath the sun.
Continue reading