my paradise

Closing these eyes, penetrating into darkness,
I can see a face, a remnant, a foilage,
Those eyes that pierce forcefully into my cranium,
begging to differenciate choices that are arisen.

Sculpt this clay-like robustion into appearance,
this one whom drowns in apparent nature,
Tedious are those hands; seldom judgemental,
mold this spirit and awaken this from death.

Oh for the valleys that are crosssed abruptly,
the emotion seeking a falter in the prism,
a chance to escape, to find the master,
such is this my weary heart is after.

You dominatrix of passions, seemingly harmless,
At the same time I stand alone aware of that wall;
one that is not easily crumbled by anyone,
but for this piece of union I sense a rebellion?

Touch this with those crafted hands,
oil this skin with kisses teasing seduction,
handle this vessel through turbulent waters,
and lay down next to this in paradise.




Poetry by Brandi
Read 571 times
Written on 2006-07-25 at 21:39

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