- Non-Erotic Poetry
- All that's left
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Our history fades into memory
Into the skin of me
Shadows of moments are lost
To the tick and the tock
Of the watch or the clock
If a lock of your hair
Could have captured the scent of you
Still I would carry you
All the magnificent might of you
Maybe the sight of you burning
Will leave me
But then there would really be nothing
So here in the pool of my eye
Is a lesson in agony
Murder and prophecy
Blue as the sky in July
And black as the ravens
That fly from the heavens
To tell us the lie
And down in the garden
That shouldn't exist
Is the sting of a knife
That the mother has twisted
All of the rivers she wove into water
Run red with the promise of sorrow and slaughter
- COMMENTS
Migbirdabout 2 years agoPainfully beautiful and so at different “levels/meanings” you might say. I see/feel for Gaia. Maybe overthinking but works for me and isn’t that part of what a poet desires.
