ANGEL
The Cid
Filthy angel
With a touch of innocence;
In rubbish clothes;
She was wrapped in intelligence.
I have seen you at your
Undermost physical state.
All the frizzy hair,
Messy lips when you ate.
In four corners of this room
Where I dropped besides to see
And give a response to the question
"What beauty has become to me?"
Filthy angel
With a touch of innocence;
In rubbish clothes;
She was wrapped in intelligence.
When it's your time to pledge,
My all felt a little screwy.
You caressed my shaking hand;
Your eyes almost fiery.
You were bit by bit
Consuming my durability,
That I had to close my eyes
To subdue this sexuality.
Filthy angel
With a touch of innocence,
The look of adversity,
Body of a deity,
Protected by acuity,
Under those ragged clothes...
What pleases me is not your figure,
Neither your style.
It is not the way you live,
But your tongue─
How it could instill the significance
Of one insignificant
In the mind of someone
Extremely unmindful.
Luscious bride─
My luscious bride,
I was brought back to life
To dwell in your radiance.
YOU ARE READING
SNIPPETS OF POETRY
Poetry"My anecdotes, and the voices of my core that I failed to hush."
