deepundergroundpoetry.com
my blood is red... it must be the wine
He blurs the line
between freedom
and intimacy
In his presence
I am whole
I am home
I am unashamed
Freedom never tastes
the way we imagine
and I find myself
wanting to break
with the memories
of things held dear
reborn in a moment
I am lost
in the lyrical web
of long drives
on rainy nights
my soul seeping
through my skin
and into his mouth
He is a breath on my cheek
a whispered nothing
a could have been
a perhaps could be
if only I could forget who I am
© Indie Adams 2016
between freedom
and intimacy
In his presence
I am whole
I am home
I am unashamed
Freedom never tastes
the way we imagine
and I find myself
wanting to break
with the memories
of things held dear
reborn in a moment
I am lost
in the lyrical web
of long drives
on rainy nights
my soul seeping
through my skin
and into his mouth
He is a breath on my cheek
a whispered nothing
a could have been
a perhaps could be
if only I could forget who I am
© Indie Adams 2016
Published 5th Apr 2016
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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The author encourages honest critique.
5th Apr 2016 2:46pm
Thanks for sharing I enjoy this type of poetry and whats being pointed too. Thanks for sharing.
6th Apr 2016 5:09am
18th Apr 2016 2:01pm
for me the opening line spoke volumes. it was a whole piece in the space of a few words.
thankyou...
thankyou...
