In Paradise
I cry. Their soft skin pulsates to my touch.I feel the blood beneath. I know that’s life.
A foreign thing; alluring all the same.
I must have it. I cut to get closer
Until it’s on my hands and down my throat—
Inside me warm. Filling me up. I smile.
I think this might be close to paradise.
I think this might be what I’ve been put on
This Earth to do: to cut and cleave my way,
From one flesh to the next to reach closer
To ecstasy. A wolf surrounded by sheep.
Perhaps I’m already in paradise.
Poetry by Sameen
Read 24 times
Written on 2025-11-16 at 15:44
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Griffonner |
