We have made love with words and sated, I
step love-drunk and languid to cool, outside.
The stars sway like droplets webbed in the sky
my heart sings, my soul shouts, my flesh burns with pride.
How long have I waited, how long survived
unconscious, invalid, living a lie?
The whole of my waiting has been comatised
despoiled and ruined, a plundered Versailles.
Eyes slow-rise upwards, hand caresses night
I taste your lips, I feel your tongue... tremor.
Love casts-off tragedy, I will rewrite
perfect perfection, annul dilemma.
I whisper your name and the stars shudder
You are all things but most precious is lover.
YOU ARE READING
Dragonish
PoetryPART 1: Seven poems that explore love. The sated wind doodles mischievously no longer the ravening raptor loosed that scratched sharp claws to my unfettered glee. Now are you temperate, husky, obtuse. PART 2: Follows the tale of a persecuted dragon...
