There are three words that sit
in the cleft of my forked tongue.
And the same three,
at the base of my aching throat.
And the same three, again,
in the pits of my starved stomach:
They beg for their release.
.
I have these three words,
which I could tell you in all opaque honesty.
But I am afeard – that their raw emotion
would fall blind and dumb upon your ears,
like a boxer’s glove.
And leave you deaf as wood.
.
But how these crooked demons crawl over
the walls of my stomach.
How they tear at the human flesh of my throat,
how thorns entangle
my already barbed tongue.
.
I release their potency; Ashes to the wind!
I HATE YOU.
YOU ARE READING
Afflatus
PoetryYou are my divine poetic inspiration. To breathe, to blow air through my lips. flāre afflāre afflātus. You are my divine afflatus. *- This is my third collection of poetry. The other two are Parts of Me and Butterfly Ripples. Please be kind enough n...
