unhand me, tramp disguised--victim of time.
i mustn't be swayed by your fallacies.
my ruby red wounds are but the malice of our legacies,
and my opulence is fading with matutinal sunrise.
if i were to concur
with your green eyed monster,
i wouldn't be true to my roots, traitor.
must i snake around your charcoal soul
and linger by your cheek?
must i bathe you in the startling hues
of the ghost of thy god- judas, i believe?
your leather skinned, petal swathed, star spangled soul
tastes like a thorn, darling. you aren't a rose.
spare me a bout of salt water-
my eyes aren't water spouts.
leave.
just leave me alone.
i'm immune to deception, rosehead.
think you could exhume the albatross' treasure trove?
+++
YOU ARE READING
ESOTERIC PHILOSOPHIES
Poetry-thoughts in the form of little rivulets that part from the undulating river of my cryptic mind in a poetic jumble of words- ~ e s o t e r i c p h i l o s o p h i e s ~ ©Aneet, August 2015 lowercase intended
