deepundergroundpoetry.com
Nights Under Sand
Why should I take what you give?
Lighter than air and just as substantial
within my stretched and painted hands
barely contained, simmering hot.
Will there always be a great nothing?
Nothing offered, nothing to take
only horror and sinking innards
A sadness drilled into blood and bone.
I burn with sunny face and light heart
until I encounter the walls of you
the pushing back, the sand storm
you use to protect within yourself
forcing moon rise upon the landscape
of my threadbare soul, weepingly
held out under unrestorative lights
to dim and shake without you.
Lighter than air and just as substantial
within my stretched and painted hands
barely contained, simmering hot.
Will there always be a great nothing?
Nothing offered, nothing to take
only horror and sinking innards
A sadness drilled into blood and bone.
I burn with sunny face and light heart
until I encounter the walls of you
the pushing back, the sand storm
you use to protect within yourself
forcing moon rise upon the landscape
of my threadbare soul, weepingly
held out under unrestorative lights
to dim and shake without you.
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