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we suffer, who love



when you read my poem, do it with nothing on.
nothing on your mind, & no cloth concealing the
fawn radiance of your skin.

I will step out of the poem & find you just like that,
timid & trembling in the cold air that follows me. you
will find my eyes tracing, with brewing desire, the
quiet nakedness of you, from your pent-up hair to your
concerned feet, attempting to hide in the sand.

in the soft light, I will know your eyes & their beauty, even
if you close them when I kiss you; & if you blush, the dusty
hue will blend with the colors of the ambering sky.

and as I watch you, gentleness is lost, & restraint. the
fingers of my passion reach for you till you feel their
angry fire. I must take you as I’ve taken you in my tainted
fantasies. my desperate craving is to hurt you, hurt you in
a carnal way  –  & there is nothing poetic in that.

you have told me of your fears, how you wept in the straw
hut of your solitude; how the choiring shadows could not
console you. even in the solitary universe that you wish us
into, you are not brave enough to be possessed in the prison
of my arms. even there, in that secret harbor, we will cry &
our wounds will not heal…

we are meant to suffer
for we are meant to love

 

Written by JohnFeddeler
Published
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