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
Indie
Written by Indie (Miss Indie)
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 8 reading list entries 1
comments 3 reads 491
_shadoe_
Commenting Preference: 
The author encourages honest critique.

Latest Forum Discussions
SPEAKEASY
Today 11:59am by The_Silly_Sibyl
SPEAKEASY
Today 6:02am by Phantom2426
SPEAKEASY
Today 6:00am by Phantom2426
SPEAKEASY
Today 5:57am by Phantom2426
SPEAKEASY
Today 4:22am by rabbitquest
POETRY
Today 4:20am by AspergerPoet56